


The Lion's Den

by Kereea



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Conspiracy Theories, Dogs, Drunkenness, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Gossip, Hilarity Ensues, Love Triangles, Multi, Paparazzi, Scandal, Snark, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2037249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adventures of Tyrion Lannister: Apartment Landlord and Superintendent<br/>Costarring multiple love-struck idiots that need to get over themselves, many lovely young ladies, a burn victim security guard, a master kickboxer-custodian, a stuttering desk boy, and far too many people with the surname Stark. Among others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Arrivals

Tyrion personally liked whenever he was able to rent the family apartments to actual families. Nothing against gaggles of college students but he couldn’t have Brienne need to fix two toilets and three sinks every single weekend without paying her more than he made himself.

Still, Robb Stark had enough for a whole year of rent in advance for him and his siblings and hopefully between him and the other college-aged two there’d be more rent afterwards. Plus when did Tyrion _ever_ get a deposit for six dogs? The fuzzballs seemed well-trained if you asked him, so no trouble on that end.

But the best part of selling to a family was watching them try and move in. Hilarious.

“I am so sorry about this,” Robb said, seizing his youngest brother by the collar and tossing the boy over his shoulder when the hyperactive child went to run past him again.

“You have a lot of things and there’s only one elevator. It’s to be expected,” Tyrion said. “Now, I should let you know that next Saturday the water will be off for a few hours for some major repairs and the same the Saturday after for the heating.”

“…It’s summer,” Robb said slowly.

“Well, yes, it would be cruel to turn off the air conditioning now. We work on that in the winter.”

“Oh,” Robb said, struggling as little Rickon tried to kick his way out of the hold. “And you said there was—Rickon!—a good babysitter in the building?”

“Margery Tyrell, mornings and weekends,” Tyrion said, passing Robb one of the resumes he kept behind the desk. “You’ll have your mailbox key in the morning, it turned out we needed a new copy for 7B’s box.”

“Oh, good,” Robb said as the elevator opened and Jon and Sansa quickly started shoving more boxes and luggage into it. “I hope this isn’t inconveniencing anyone.”

“I gave out warning notices yesterday. This isn’t uncommon,” Tyrion said. “Should have seen when Renly Baratheon and the Tyrells moved in. I have personally never seen so many garment bags in my life.”

“Well, if it’s not just us,” Robb muttered.

“Do you want the mailbox to just say Stark?” Tyrion asked. “Or should I try to fit everyone’s names on there?”

“Just Stark’s fine,” Robb said, looking at the other boxes. “I…T Greyjoy? _Theon_ Greyjoy?”

Tyrion frowned. It had been years since Greyjoy had moved in and this was honestly the first time someone not already in the building had asked after him, “Yes. 3F.”

“…I haven’t seen him in ages,” Robb said, grinning.

“Well, it’s after noon, so you won’t see him until tomorrow anyway. Works at bar across town and won’t be back until after midnight.”

“Oh, that…that’s fine,” Robb said. “Thanks.”

Tyrion raised a brow, “I’m not entirely sure for what I am being thanked but you are welcome.”

“I…for letting us live here.”

“You paid a year and a month in advance and gave me the biggest pet deposit I’ve ever seen. No trouble, unless one of you is secretly a pyromaniac. We have a strict moratorium on that sort of behavior.”

“I…well, the rent was…unusually reasonable.”

“I make my money on reasonable rents. Everyone and their friends want to live in this area. Makes sense to be reasonable and sell out all my rooms instead of charging a few hundred more per month and having half of them empty,” Tyrion replied.

“A hundred a month?” Rickon asked, his eyes bugging out even as Robb set him down.

Ah, small children and their inability to comprehend large amounts of money. Adorable. “Yes indeed. Err, Stark I think one of your dogs is over-excited.”

“What?” Robb asked. “Shit! Rickon, Rickon, you did not hear me say that, but go calm down Shaggy!”

Rickon hurried over to the rocking crate and started cooing at whatever dark-furred beast was growling so psychotically within.

“He gets a bit…twitchy. When cooped up in a small space. I swear he’s not normally like that,” Robb said worriedly.

“Oh, that’s fine. I’m sure if there’s a wall between him and other people they won’t hear a thing. I renovated the place when I bought it,” Tyrion said. “Very little noise sharing.”

“That’s good. Not that we’re loud or…or...you know,” Robb said.

“Stark, you’re twenty-one, your brother is twenty-three. You’re trying to manage four younger siblings, only one of whom is anywhere near being considered adult age,” Tyrion said. “Do yourself a favor and stop panicking for one day.”

“ROBB!”

Young Miss Arya Stark stormed up to her brother. “Sansa won’t take the pink room!”

“It has a window looking east. You know she doesn’t like waking up early,” Robb said. “Look, give us a few weeks to get settled and then we'll paint your room. You will survive, I swear.”

“Brienne, the custodian, has tarps if you’ll need them,” Tyrion said. “Don’t buy from Home Co. they price-gouge like you wouldn’t believe and half the time they don’t mix their shades right. Among other things. Once took an extra two weeks to set a renovation of mine right.”

He still didn’t know how those idiots had done what they’d done to the fourth floor’s hall carpet, either…he’d had to pay extra to get new stuff sent in asap and poor Sandor had needed to figure out how to help Brienne rip the ruined stuff out before the new arrived. And he’d had to pay so much overtime.

“Oh, thank you,” Robb said. “Good to know. Arya, I’ll take you by somewhere next week to look at colors, okay?”

“I want black.”

“Not a chance!” Robb called as she went back to helping get things sent upstairs. “Middle school. What do you do?”

Tyrion had dreadful memories of his eldest nephew in middle school. “Pray. Assuming you are religious.”

“Yeah, that might work,” Robb laughed. “Anyway, thanks again.”

Tyrion shrugged as the Starks finally got their last bags into the elevator, along with two of the dog crates. “You’re welcome if you stop compulsively thanking me. It’s getting awkward, Mr. Stark.”

“Right. Right sorry,” Robb said. “Umm…”

“Stark, you are going to go help your siblings unpack. You are going to order enough pizza to get the lot of you through breakfast tomorrow. And you will relax before I consider having you committed. All right?”

The young man nodded slowly as if the perfectly logical course of action had never occurred to him.

Tyrion sighed. Poor Pod. He had the desk this weekend.

Tyrion hoped the new arrivals weren’t what finally scared him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a silly thing I came up with to counteract the less-silly other things I write for this fandom. Hope you enjoy it as it continues. Next time: Staff Poker Meeting


	2. Staff Poker Meeting

“I still can’t believe you let tenants paint the rooms,” Sandor grumbled.

“They pay a deposit for it. And I banned neon colors as anything but accents,” Tyrion replied. “Raise two.”

“Th-they seem nice, though. The new family,” Pod said. “Raise one.”

“Plenty nice,” Sandor agreed as Brienne looked form the pot to her cards. “Any time, Tarth.”

“Shut it, Clegane,” the blonde said, clucking her tongue.

Tyrion was relatively certain she’d managed to convince Pod that was a tell that she had a bad hand.

“See you,” she said finally.

“Raise one,” Sandor said.

“So we’re all feeling very confident, are we?” Tyrion mused. There was very little chance of a royal flush, given that he had a jacks-high full house. But there were higher houses to be had and a straight flush was also entirely possible… “Raise one.”

“…Fold,” Pod decided.

Hmm. He hadn’t folded last time. Did he think Sandor had a good hand?

“So what’s the story about the Stark kid who’s name’s on the lease knowing that punk from the third floor?” Sandor asked.

“I don’t know. Said they used to be friends and he hadn’t seen him in a while,” Tyrion said.

“Are you sure?” Brienne asked. “Last person who came looking for Theon…”

“That wasn’t ‘looking for’ him that was ‘chasing him into the damn lobby,’” Tyrion groused. “Sandor, if you please?”

“See you,” Sandor decided.

“Same,” Brienne said.

Tyrion smirked as they laid down their cards. He’d had the winning hand after all. “Oh, and Podrick, good job nailing that degenerate in the head with the paperweight. I gave you a bonus that month, right?”

“Yes, you did,” Pod said.

“Did his dad ever sue? The punk’s, I mean?” Sandor asked.

“And admit his son was chasing and threatening someone? Because apparently Loras and Renly were kissing in the stairwell and heard everything, so we had witnesses.” Tyrion picked up his new hand once Brienne was done dealing.

Hmm. Well, he had a flush of hearts…only ten high, but still rather good. “Three in.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Sandor grumbled.

“It’s Podrick’s turn,” Brienne said.

“Why would I want _Pod_ to get fucked?” Sandor asked.

“Speaking of which, I’m off tomorrow,” Tyrion said. “Don’t send anyone to me, Brienne is in charge.”

“And if someone goes right to your door?” Brienne asked.

“Fold,” Pod said.

“Well, if someone goes to me door I will…well, I’ll answer if not indisposed,” Tyrion said. “But I hope to at least be out in the evening. Just take notes of what’s going on, better, have the residents leave notes and the time they were written.”

“A-all r-right-t,” Pod said, his nerves exacerbating his stutter.

“Come on, boy, you usually do fine,” Sandor said. “All right, you short bastard, I’ll see what you’ve got.”

“Grand. Brienne?” Tyrion asked.

“Raise one,” she said said, grinning.

Oh dear. Brienne was usually quite the poor bluffer…on the other hand she knew they thought that…damn his eternal curiosity. “Fine. I’ll see that.”

“Oh, what to do,” Sandor said mockingly. “See if Brienne’s learnt to lie or she has a fantastic hand, or be a smart man with my money?”

“Since when have you been the latter?” Brienne asked.

“Just for that, I’ll see what ou’ve got, Tarth,” Sandor said.

“Four of a kind,” she said, setting down four twos.

“Brienne, you are the best custodian I have ever met and I will hate you for this anyway,” Tyrion announced.

“You met my raise,” she replied.

“Yes, well god forbid I hope that one day you might really be bluffing,” Tyrion said as Sandor took his turn at shuffling the deck.

“Know if the Tyrell girl’s planning a welcome party for the Stark family?” Sandor asked as he dealt the cards.

“It’s Margaery. The answer to such a question is inevitably yes,” Tyrion said. “All residents not using us as a dorm must be properly greeted, especially if they plan on staying more than a year.”

“I offer to man the front desk during the party,” Brienne said quickly, probably so Pod couldn’t make the same offer.

Pod gave her a sulky look, likely guessing the same.

His new hand was rather weak. Oh well, two pair could win you the pot if you were clever.

“I’ll bet two,” Brienne said.

“I’ll see that and raise one,” Tyrion said.

“You know, I never asked why you have actual Vegas chips,” Sandor mused. “Fold.”

Good. One down. “From Vegas, obviously.”

“Aren’t these from…oh god. You stole chips from your dad’s casino,” Pod muttered, looking horrified.

“You both really only just noticed the word ‘Vegas’ and the big lion on it?” Brienne asked. “Both of you need to go to the optometrist.”

“Fuck you, Tarth,” Sandor said.

“Um…I’ll see,” Pod deicded.

Damn that boy sometimes. If Brienne didn’t raise…

“I’m with Pod. Let’s see it, Tyrion,” Brienne agreed.

Yes, he was definitely going to hate his custodian until morning. “Two pair.”

“You’re trying to bluff that much with two honest folks like that at the table?” Sandor laughed. “Never enter a tournament with that kind of strategy, boss, or we’ll all be out of luck!”

“I’d never gamble _that_ much money,” Tyrion said. “For fuck’s sake, _we’re_ playing with restaurant coupons!”

“I still say that half-off one for Sunspear should be worth twice the rest,” Brienne said.

“You three really like that place,” Pod mused. “You know, if I don’t bet it I’ll just trade it after the game.”

“Dibs!” Sandor and Brienne both said before glaring at each other.

Tyrion laughed. Thankfully he didn’t need to worry too much about paying full price at the Martell family restaurant. A custodian and a security guard however…

This could get ugly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion's faithful staff have made their appearance! Next time, Tyrion is constantly interrupted while waiting on his caller by "Young Adult Angst".


	3. Young Adult Angst

“You told Robb Stark I lived here?”

“No that would be the ‘T Greyjoy’ on your mailbox, Theon,” Tyrion said, waving him in. Thank goodness Ros wasn’t over yet. “And how may I help you?”

“Robb Stark knows I live here.”

“Theon, I should warn you that since you are sober I’m not going to be as understanding about you rambling like this,” Tyrion said. “We have confirmed that he knows where you live. You also know where he lives.”

“…What?”

Tyrion sighed. It was like Renly about his brothers all over again… “The mailboxes, Theon. Stark is on one of the mailboxes. Same as you.”

“Robb lives here?”

“Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Stark, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, and Rickon Stark live here. With the six dogs they have,” Tyrion said.

“…Why?” Theon asked.

“I would assume it to be their business, not mine,” Tyrion said.

“You love everyone’s business.”

“No, I love leggy women with properly proportionate breasts, one of whom will likely be arriving soon,” Tyrion said. “And good wine. I do love good wine.”

“Oh…uh…well…you didn’t warn me!”

“I didn’t know he knew you until you were already at work. As he did not seem deranged, like someone else, say, I let it slide.”

Theon bent down and seized Tyrion’s shoulders, “He wants to _talk_.”

“Heavens forbid!” Tyrion cried, throwing his arms in the air. “Communication! In person and everything! What _will_ they think of next?”

“Look, Mr. Lannister…”

“Theon, I have been exceptionally understanding of your…complicated circumstances,” Tyrion said. And sue him, but he always had a soft spot for lost boys. Just ask Pod and Gendry. And possibly Sandor. “However, this is not only my day off, but a day off I have already scheduled. I will be in my office morning if you need a sounding wall.”

“He’ll be at my apartment _today_!”

“You don’t have to open the door! Say you’re…hung-over, that there was a party at the bar!” Tyrion said. “In fact, do that, and then get piss-drunk once he leaves.”

“I thought you told me to stop drowning my sorrows.”

“No, I said to stop doing it every night,” Tyrion said. “If your ex is back in town by all means drink.”

“My _what_?” Theon squawked.

“Have I been reading this wrong?” Tyrion asked. He knew Theon’s type was generally redheads, which Stark was…

“I…I never…we never…”

“Oh gods,” Tyrion whispered as it dawned on him. “Robb Stark is someone you always wanted to ask out.”

And he never had and being Theon “Drama Queen with No Self-Esteem” Greyjoy he was now incapable of figuring out what to do with the situation. And neither was Tyrion.

“Scratch the old plan,” Tyrion said. “Go see Renly. This seems like his area of expertise. I don’t care if you hate Loras and his ‘stupid’ car, go do it. And drink there.”

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion, why is there a drunk bartender sobbing on my boyfriend?”

“Hello…Loras. I was hoping you were someone else,” Tyrion said. Ros had texted, she was caught in traffic. Something about a convention…he’d thought he’d heard the Reeds talking about something like that last week…oh well.

“And Renly said to ask you what he was doing there since Theon and I were about to come to blows and the fuck did you send him up for?”

“He’s having a relationship crisis. And last I checked Renly often rented himself out as the free love doctor for the building.”

“But to… _Greyjoy_?” Loras whined.

“He does live in the building,” Tyrion said.

“And what’s wrong? Don’t tell me he had another relapse where he’s missing his stalker…”

“Hells no,” Tyrion said. “I wouldn’t have let him out of my sight if that was the case, well, fine, Brienne’s sight once my guest arrived…anyway I would not have been so blasé about things.”

“Then what’s wrong with him and how do I fix it to get him out of my apartment?” Loras asked.

“Ask Renly. He’s handling it. I don’t gossip.”

“Like hell you don’t!” Loras snapped, storming out.

Tyrion sighed. Day off _indeed_.

.o.o.o.

“So then Sandor started swearing at the boiler for not doing what Brienne wanted and she just gave him the look of hers, you know, the ‘you’re not helping’ one,” Tyrion chuckled, twirling his spaghetti.

“Oh gods,” Ros laughed, signaling a waiter to refill her water. “You should see poor Bettina. The second anything goes wrong at the shelter she bursts into tears. Even if no one’s blaming her for it!”

“Sounds like Pod panicking any time the printer dies on him. I know that machine’s a brat and I’ve told him it’s a brat but he always thinks _he_ broke it,” Tyrion said. “I mean, gods, I’ll be _shocked_ if he ever gets enough of a hold on that anxiety to even get a degree…poor boy, he’s probably the smartest of the four I employ, academically speaking.”

“I’d never send any of mine to college. Not with the loans crisis,” Ros said. “Admittedly some of yours are better off but…hell no. Not unless I’ve gotten about a metric ton of paperwork saying ‘this loan provider is not shady.’”

“You realize that is entirely unreasonable?” Tyrion asked. “And yet so very admirable of you to even try…”

“Flattery gets you everywhere,” she laughed. “Oh, and you were wondering about the Starks?”

“If only because more than just the resident drama queen has made not of wondering why the hell they bought from me,” Tyrion sighed. “So my darling gossip monger, what ever can you tell me?”

“Well it was a bit of a stunner when it happened, let me tell you,” Ros said. “But let me warn you, you can easily look it up on your own, and after talking about it I doubt wither of us will be in the mood…”

“I’ll look it up then,” Tyrion decided. “Though I must sadly insist on your place dear lady. I’ve already had multiple barge-ins today.”

“Oh, good idea then,” she said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not TyrionxRos nor is it TyrionxAnyoneElseWeSeeHimWithEarlyOn. Still working if he has a pairing at all, really. Just thought I'd get that out there. We're also starting into the fact that Theon and Loras have rivalry that involves a lot of things, including Theon hating Loras' precious car for seemingly no reason.   
> Next time Tyrion has to deal with whatever went down while he was gone in "Delegation Nation"


	4. Delegation Nation

Tyrion knew he was in for a rough morning when a red-faced Pod thrust him a pile of notes. “This many?”

“Some resolve each other. I think,” Pod muttered quietly. “And one’s from Gendry saying he’ll be over the flu soon so you have have a night desk person again.”

“He’s not getting out of the party,” Tyrion said.

“I tried to tell him. I don’t know if he heard me,” Pod said.

Tyiron took the stack into his office and sat down to read them.

4:15 pm—Oh gods Tyrion I’m so sorry I think I made Loras and Theon declare war on each other I’m so sorry! _Renly_

4:45 pm—Sandor won’t let me tip him for being sure not to let my skeevy, creepy, thank-god-it’s-over date in. Please let me tip him. _Meera_

5:00 pm—Tyrion, disregard Renly’s note. I handled it. _Margaery_

5:15 pm—Lannister, can I please prosecute Tyrell for blackmailing me? Also, no, you don’t need to worry. _Theon_

5:20 pm—Hi. I’m feeling better. Let me know when you need me to work again asap. _Gendry_

5:30 pm—I have no idea what I did but a couple from the third floor cornered me over it in the laundry room and I’m so sorry. _Robb Stark_

5:45 pm—Tyrion, disregard my previous note. Renly and my brother screwed up what I was holding over Theon’s head. _Margaery_

7:00—Tyrion, I just caught Theon writing on Loras’ car with soap. Made him wash it off. I want to know why he hates a perfectly good sports car. _Sandor_

8:00—Tyrion, the light in my shower is out. Again. _Drogo_

Well…that was interesting. Now, if Loras knew what Theon did they had a problem, but if he didn’t and things were out of Theon’s system… He’d leave it for now.

He’d need to explain some things to Robb. Now how to do it without seriously violating Theon’s privacy…? Actually, for all he knew Loras and Renly’s screw up already had violated Theon’s privacy with whatever they did involving Robb

Sandor was easy, at least. Theon thought Loras’ car was stupid. That’s all there was to it, no more no less. And he was allowed to take tips if the Reed girl really was that grateful. Gendry could be back to work tomorrow night. And Drogo…Tyrion was ready to hire someone to work on the wiring instead of just handing the man a new bulb. That was the third light this year.

He paged the front desk “Pod, call Loras and Theon around ten or so to come to my office at eleven for an intervention. This has gotten ridiculous. Also leave a message for the Starks that Robb is not in any sort of trouble and that he should ask Brienne anything about Theon, anything at all.”

“…Why?”

“Because I essentially told Theon I wouldn’t tell Robb anything, but now Loras seems to have told him something, so now I need someone to clarify whatever that something was, which given Robb’s panic she’ll likely manage by the end of today,” Tyrion explained.

“Oh! Um…all right…”

“And be a dear and ask Drogo when he wants an electrician scheduled,” Tyrion said.

“Yessir.”

“And have Sandor erase the security tapes if they show what Theon was doing in the garage last night.”

“ _W_ - _what_?”

“Just do. So Loras never _actually_ kills him.”

“A-all r-right.”

Tyrion hung up. Now, after he talked to Theon he could conspire with Margaery so Theon showed up at the damn party, forcing him and Robb to clear the air by making them be in the same location and communicate. And he could get Sandor to force the communication if necessary…he had enough on the man to make him do almost anything…

He pulled out his cell phone and texted Renly. _Going to make your bf talk w/ Theon. Make L play nice._

He received a reply twenty minutes later while going over the bills. _R U out of your mind?_

_No, I want those 2 idiots to get the f*** along for however long the party will be._

_More power to you. Good luck._

Tyrion sighed. He’d likely need it. He dialed another number, “Brienne, when you’re fixing that hinge on my door around lunch could you stand to bring me a bottle of wine? Any of them will do.”

“What’s got you drinking so early?”

“The saga of Theon and Loras.”

“…I’ll bring two.”

.o.o.o.

“So, do you know why you are here?” Tyrion asked.

“Because Tyrell is a life-ruining prick.” Theon was slumped over in his chair, eyes shadowed from what Tyrion assumed was a lack of sleep coupled with a slight hangover.

“Because Greyjoy won’t face his fucking problems like a man,” Loras shot back.

“Boys, I am very disappointed in the both of you,” Tyrion said. “You especially, Loras. You know Theon is sensitive-”

“I’m not fucking _sensitive_!” Theon snapped.

“ _Clearly_ you are,” Tyrion replied. “Anyway, you know how he is about these things and despite you two not getting along I do usually manage to at least get basic civility out of you. Loras, you had no right to barge into Theon’s problems.”

“ _Renly_ did the barging, I just came along since the guy looked like he could bench press my boyfriend,” Loras said.

“You still went instead of, I don’t know, talking to your sister to help you stop Renly if talking to Renly yourself failed,” Tyrion said.

“…She thought it sounded great.”

Pity. Tyrion had pegged Margaery as one of the sane ones…

“What did you tell Robb Stark?” Tyrion asked.

“Just that he’d better stop making Theon upset if he knows what’s good for him. Again, Renly did it, not me,” Loras said.

“Oh really?” Tyrion asked.

“Fine, fine, I commented that I didn’t need the jackass crying on my boyfriend-”

“You told him I _cried_?” Theon yelled, looking ready to leap from his chair and try to beat Loras up. Not that Tyrion thought he’d succeed, given Loras’ nature as a gym rat…

“Loras, that was a serious breach of Theon’s…trust,” Tyrion went with that since, well, friendship would not be it. “Can you see why he’s angry?”

“…I guess,” Loras sulked.

“And now Robb wants to talk more than ever,” Theon muttered.

“Theon, would you feel better if it wasn’t…alone? Talking with him?” Tyrion offered. “Margaery’s throwing a party to welcome the Starks, you know, before all the college kids start moving in for the semester.”

“Really before. It’s this weekend,” Loras said.

“…Fast,” Tyrion noted. “Well, Theon?”

“Well, _no_ , becuase I don’t want to talk about it in front of everyone else either!”

“You can’t do this to yourself, man. You have to do something!” Loras protested.

“Oh, now you’re on my side?” Theon snarled.

“He’s right, Theon. You have to do something. We don’t need you self-destructing again,” Tyrion said. “I will not watch you fall apart like I did last time. Am I perfectly clear?”

“…Leave a room free for me and Robb to talk at the party,” Theon told Loras. “And cover me if I need to run? Okay?”

“Yeah. Least I could do after I worried the guy over you,” Loras agreed.

“Good, we’re all…well, close to friends again,” Tyrion said. “Don’t make me drag either of you in here again at least until after the party, though, or we will have problems.”

“Got it,” Loras said.

“Yes, Mr. Lannister,” Theon sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Tyrion finds he needs to talk to Robb after all and ends up getting more information that he gives in "Stark Troubles"


	5. Stark Troubles

Tyrion was shifting through the bills when there was a knock on his office door. He tossed the list of the Tyrell’s utilities payments back into his to-do box. “Come in.”

It was Robb Stark. “Hello.”

“Good afternoon,” Tyrion replied. “Is something wrong?”

He prayed it wasn’t the sink. 7B’s kitchen sink had been totally overhauled twice now and he’d hate for it to have someone had issues so soon after last time.

“Erm…Brienne talked to me. Kind of.”

“Did she make it clear that you’re not in trouble?” Tyrion asked. “Because Loras is an impulsive _idiot_ , you’re really not going to be punished for that.”

Robb gaped at him, likely for his frank opinion of Loras.

“Sit down, sit down, and stop looking like a fish, boy,” Tyrion sighed. “Now, I got your note, and you seemed…rather panicked. If I may say so.”

“We…kind of need this place,” Robb said.

“Do tell.” Fine, Loras was right, he did like gossip.

“I…I guess it wasn’t hugely in the news but…our parents died. Car crash,” Robb said.

That would explain the smaller children being cared for by the older ones.

“A-and we decided, Jon and Sansa and me, that we’d rather sell the house and a lot of the stuff and put the money towards our siblings’ college funds and we might have messed up our math and this was the only place close enough to all of our schools that wasn’t like four thousand a month…”

“It’s the new Lannister Tower downtown. It’s fueling a bit of a boom. So curse my father that even a studio in this area is quickly becoming unaffordable,” Tyrion said.

“…Wait, that big building near the city park is your dad’s?”

“Did you not see the ‘Lannister’ plastered up the side?” Tyrion asked.

“Nope. It’s too ugly a thing to look at.” Robb went rigid as if realized he’d just said that out loud. “I mean-”

“Stark, I hope you’re not majoring in anything that requires public relations skills, because you have no filter,” Tyrion said. “I personally find it lovely but it could get you in trouble one day.”

“…Jon says the same thing,” Robb admitted. “So…I’m not it trouble?”

“Heavens no. Insult that building to your heart’s content,” Tyrion said. “I for one find the fountain out front to be an affront to all other fountains.”

How anyone could make a lion look that ugly…had they hired a modern artist and told them to try and make a traditional sculpture anyway? Or just hired some idiot with a big name but no talent? Oh the possibilities…

“You know, I actually never made the connection,” Robb said.

“Then my evil plan to never be connected to my father is working perfectly. Now, as to your obvious panic about maybe getting thrown out, unless you seriously deface my property or assault a resident I really do not care what you do.”

“Really?”

“Stark, I have had the equivalent of an MMA fight break out in a hallway between my brother and my custodian—incidentally Brienne won. I have had a then-six-year-old Jojen Reed attack me with a water gun because he thought I was an evil gnome thanks to a horror film. I have had several current residents come in so drunk they vomited before reaching the elevator. And I have had college students rent rooms here. You’re fine.”

“…I’m a college student.”

“No, you’re a young adult who happens to be attending college nearly full time. That’s completely different.”

“It…is?”

“Unless you pour cement in a toilet, graffiti my halls, poor beer out the windows, or try and toilet paper other residents’ doors, yes.”

“…Any of that going to be on my floor?”

“No. They are confined below the fifth floor so as few residents must deal with them as possible.”

Sadly that left out Theon, Gendry and his mother, and Brienne, just off the top of his head.

“Okay that’s…that’s a lot better than I thought.”

“Stark, do yourself a favor. Worry about nothing more than what to wear to Margaery Tyrell’s welcome party, all right?”

“Do you think Theon will be there?”

“Yes.” Even if he had to make Sandor drag the boy in like a reticent toddler…

“O…okay then. Sure. And I know all my siblings want to go.”

“Grand. Margaery will likely have flyers up soon, call her if you want to say anything.”

“Right. And um, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Tyrion said as the boy left his office.

Nice kid. Could probably use anxiety medication, though…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short, but that's because the next one's the party and it will be a bit long! Here we get to see Robb in nervous-wreck mode and find out a bit more of what he and his siblings are doing in the building. And a bit about the Lannister family.


	6. Plotting a Party

“I could have sworn there was a rule about alcohol around here,” Tyrion mused as he watched Loras hauling multiple boxes of beers and liquors through the front doors.

“ _You_. Have an alcohol policy,” Renly drawled.

“Yes. I believe it is required that the landlord be allowed to sample any large quantities of the substance entering the building. For quality control,” Tyrion said.

“It’s not like you won’t have any at the party,” Renly said. “I mean, for crying out loud, we gave Theon fifty bucks to make us a bunch of mixed drinks, too!”

“I did want to try that sunset vodka mixer he mentioned,” Tyrion said, following the couple into the elevator.

“Well, he’ll have to bring the vodka, we didn’t buy any,” Loras said.

“No vodka? You heathens,” Tyrion sighed.

“We got beer, tequila, whisky, white wine, and hard liquor,” Renly said, checking the boxes. “I think you or Theon can bring vodka if you’re so desperate.”

“And we all know Sandor will bring his own ale,” Loras added, pushing the dolly into the hall.

“So, no punch or spiked punch?” Tyrion asked.

“No punch. Lime flavored water,” Renly said.

“Bit highbrow. There will be children attending,” Tyiron noted.

“We’ll have juice,” Loras said. “Gods know I drink enough of it…”

“Seriously. If ‘juicing’ didn’t have such negative connotations that’s how I’d refer to his juice consumption,” Renly said.

“Are we sure he’s not doing both?” Tyrion asked.

“Ha ha, _no_ ,” Loras muttered. “Ren, key?”

“Here,” Renly said, unlocking and opening the door. “Marge, we have alcohol and the landlord!”

“I was unaware they came together!” Loras’ sister called from the vicinity of the kitchen. “Tyrion, what do you think, finger sandwiches or veggie plate?”

“What’s in the sandwiches and on the plate, precisely?” he returned.

“Just come look!” she called.

Tyrion inspected the two sets of snacks, “Incidentally I did not know there were vegetable platters that also involved bacon.”

“That’s to make Loras and Theon not complain about the vegetables.”

“Ah. Good girl. Well if you have both, serve both. More variety.”

“Oh, and Gendry’s coming, right? I’d hate to have gotten some of that unsweet tea he likes and not have him show up.”

“He’ll show, his mother on the other hand…well, I think she’s still not feeling quite on hundred percent.”

“Flu in the summer. What will they think of next?” Margaery sighed.

“Hopefully not heatstroke in winter,” Tyrion said.

“I can see someone getting it from a tanning bed,” Renly noted idly. “Or an over-charged sunlamp. And people do use the latter in the winter for certain kinds of depression, you know.”

“There’s widespread medications for depression, counselors for depression, dog petting circles for depression, and now lamps for depression,” Tyrion mused. “I’m not saying it doesn’t work but I do wonder what they’ll come up with next.”

“Actually most therapy-dog-petting-sessions are for _anxiety_. That’s why they crop up on college campuses during exam time,” Renly said. “Oh, and tell me that’s a real bow tie. Clip-ons are so…pathetic.”

“Please tell me he doesn’t tell children that about their ties,” Tyrion asked Margaery.

“No, he’s not dumb enough to critique children’s clothes. Yet,” she replied.

“It’s real,” he added to Renly. “Loras, tell me you’re still around!”

“He’s dressing himself a little more nicely,” Renly said. “You know, no sense in hauling heavy boxes of cans and bottles in the same clothes you’ll party in. Especially in the summer.”

Tyrion nodded. It made sense. “Well did he tell you about the Theon situation?”

“Yes. They can have my room, there’s a couch,” Margaery said. “I wouldn’t let them near that sty you two are in, Renly.”

“Sty? The messiest it gets is when Loras leaves a t-shirt out now and then,” Renly argued.

“And all his weights are everywhere and you have that tendency to leave your protection out in the open and there’s that dartboard with photos of people…including Theon,” Margaery said.

“Again, blame your darling brother,” Renly said.

“What was that about darlings, darling?” Loras asked, toweling off his hair as he came in.

“Nothing important, and take Theon off your dartboard, that’s horribly immature,” Tyrion said.

“Why do you always take his side?” Loras asked.

“Because to my knowledge he never takes a cutout of _you_ to the archery range,” Tyrion replied.

“He goes after Rose!”

“…The car,” Renly supplied when Tyrion’s confusion apparently became too evident to ignore. “He means his car. Since it’s red.”

“Margaery, darling, tell me you’re at least making something of yourself?” For the sake of the Tyrell family name if nothing else.

“Double major in political science and global affairs with a minor in journalism to learn the tricks of the trade. I’ll be president within sixteen years or less of graduation if all goes as planned.”

“Wonderful,” Tyrion said. “Renly, now that I think about it…what do you _do_?”

“ _I_ am a lifestyle consultant,” he said, smirking. “Rich people give me money to tell them what they’re doing wrong.”

“How on earth he convinced them that was worth being paid big money for doing I’ll never know,” Loras admitted.

“I could make good money at that,” Tyrion mused.

“Please, your father and sister would get you blacklisted in a few days. A week, tops,” Renly said. “Hell, they’d blacklist _me_ for living here if Robert wasn’t my brother. Should have known being related to him might eventually come in handy…”

There was a knock at the door.

“Loras, get it, it’s Jojen and Meera. Howland sent them early with brownies since he can’t make it,” Margaery said.

“Now that’s my kind of peace offering!” Loras said, heading for the door.

“I bet you a good portion of those brownies never make it back here,” Tyrion said.

“Well he did get a bit of a workout with the beverages,” Renly conceded. “He’s probably hungry…”

To Tyrion’s surprise it wasn’t an eager-at-the-prospect-of-sweets Loras who came through the doorway, but an upset-looking Theon Greyjoy. “Lovely of you to join us, Theon.”

“Whatever. Margaery, where do you keep your glasses for mixed drinks?” Theon asked, setting a messenger back down on the counter.

“Cabinet over the toaster,” she replied. “Did Jojen and Meera come too?”

“Yes. They’re trying to stop your brother from stealing all the baked goods,” Theon said, pulling out his drink mixing equipment and ingredients.

“Loras!” Margaery huffed, storming out into the living room.

“So…room?” Theon asked Renly.

“Margaery’s.”

“Thanks,” Theon said. “ice?”

“Trays are in the freezer.”

“No ice maker?”

“I didn’t buy the fridge,” Renly replied.

“Theon, Renly and Loras informed me that they have no vodka. Please tell me you brought some,” Tyrion said.

“Yep. Knew those two are too sissy to drink it.”

“Really, Greyjoy, biting the hand that’s going to feed you fifty dollars and a private room to chat with your crush?” Renly asked.

Theon shot him what should have been a withering glare but, to Tyrion and Renly, who both had experience with Tyrion’s sister, was a bit weak.

“Make sure to put the mixed drinks on that part of the counter only,” Renly said. “We don’t want some kid confusing them with the juice.”

“Yes, because juice so often comes in martini glasses,” Theon said.

The doorbell rang again.

“Well, off to be a good host,” Renly said. “And for god’s sake, Theon, would it kill you to smile?”

Theon purposefully grimaced, “Maybe.”

“Oh stop that,” Tyrion scolded. “You know, I had to promise him you’d be here to get him to come.”

“Him who?”

As Theon was leaning over the counter it wasn’t too much of a stretch to smack him. “You know who.”

Theon huffed as he rubbed his cheek, “Oh, we’re entertaining Vol-”

“Shut up, Theon,” Loras huffed. “Him. Robb Stark. Guy you’re fucking scared of.”

“Where’d you come from?” Theon muttered.

“The living room. Just need the sandwich and veggie plates,” Loras said, grabbing both. “Most people have confused ‘a bit early’ with ‘fashionably late’ today.” Seeing Theon freeze he added. “Starks aren’t here yet.”

“Great. You have your drinks mixed. I’m gone,” Theon said.

“Theon!” Tyrion said but the Greyjoy had already slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking, only to stop dead in the doorway.

“I lied, by the way,” Loras added, smirking.

Tyrion peered into the living room.

Robb was sitting on the couch, talking with Gendry and Pod. He looked up, “Theon?”

Theon turned and walked back into the kitchen.

Oh gods. It was going to be like that, was it?

No, no, this had gone on too long already.

Tyrion was going to have to do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this time we met Margaery and Renly and learned more about Loras and Tyrion's opinions on the three of them. Hope you liked it! The party was getting too long, so I had to split it up. What will Tyrion do to make Theon actually communicate like a normal human being? Stay tuned next time for "Party All Night"!


	7. Party All Night

Tyrion sighed, “Get out there.”

“No.”

“Theon, I will _make_ you.”

“No,” Theon said calmly, shaking the canister he’d brought for ‘shaken not stirred’ types of drinks.

“I will get Sandor to _carry_ you, don’t think I won’t.”

“You’re not quite that heartless, so no.”

“Theon, there is _literally_ no more counter space for drinks and you are looking far too longingly at the vodka for someone who’s already had two shots in half an hour,” Tyrion said. “Out. Shoo!”

“You can’t shoo me, man, it’s Margaery’s kitchen,” Theon muttered.

“In my building. Get!” Theon said, pointing at the door.

To his surprise, Theon walked out…only for him to then grab Podrick and start discussing Shark Week with him.

If it wouldn’t have been highly illegal Tyrion would have been so tempted to threaten to raise his rent for this sort of immaturity.

All right, time to think of a new plan.

Bran and Rickon Stark were with Jojen Reed, discussing Pokémon. Arya and Meera Reed were discussing some new superhero movie about Scarlett Johansen and psychic powers or something…odd, he hadn’t have thought her character would have used those in the Avengers if she’s had them…

Margaery had cornered Sansa to talk clothing and…Baratheons? How did Sansa know Renly’s family? He’d get the gossip later, he supposed…

Jon Stark and Gendry were chatting about cars with Loras. Which left Robb playing a board game with Sandor, Renly and Drogo.

“Renly, I didn’t know you had snakes and ladders,” Tyrion said, pulling himself up into a chair to observe the game.

“It’s been mine since middle school,” Renly said, shrugging.

“It’s condition is good, then,” Drogo said, rolling the dice across the slightly faded board. “Ha! See if you can catch me now!”

“Please, you just have to accidentally hit one of those two really long snakes,” Sandor huffed. “Which you will. All of us have.”

“I did it twice,” Robb added.

“Oh, Robb, speaking of _doing things_ , you’ll notice Theon is no longer determined to break the world record for most mixed drinks made in an hour and has joined us,” Tyrion said.

“Oh. Um. Good,” Robb said.

“Good?” Tyrion asked. Stark hadn’t even wanted to come to the damn party until he’d known Theon would be here!

“He’s saying take the hint,” Renly said.

“What hint?” Robb asked.

Sandor laughed, “Either you are the most oblivious man ever or you’re in more denial than Greyjoy!”

He’d said it rather loudly, and at the very least Theon had reacted to his hearing his name by shooting the burned man a look. Tyrion took advantage of the fact that Robb was looking in a different direction to point _very obviously_ at the Stark.

This of course sent Sandor into further hysterics and had Sansa Stark clamp her hands over her mouth and giggle while Jon looked like he was going to be sick.

Theon did not look impressed. Robb just looked confused. Tyrion was leaning towards the “oblivious” theory at the moment.

Theon sighed, ran a hand through his hair, shrugged at Pod, and crossed the room to the game table, “Hey, Robb.”

“Hey,” Robb said. Gods how did Greyjoy avoid someone who grinned like _that_ when they saw him? “Good to see you again.”

“You…you know want to…talk?” Theon asked.

“Oh, take Margaery’s room, privacy you know,” Renly said quickly.

“R-right,” Theon said. “Talk?”

Robb grinned, “Sure. Great.”

“Thank you,” Tyrion said to Renly as they quickly left. “I’m starting to think Robb might be as bad as Theon about these things.”

“Well, maybe it’s less opposites attract than we thought and more like meets like,” Renly suggested.

“Yes, it is the similarities of their _inability_ to grasp the other’s attraction to them that is _clearly_ going to allow their communication,” Drogo chuckled.

“You’d be shocked where outright horniness gets you, Drogo…oh, wait, no you wouldn’t,” Renly teased.

“I’ll believe it when I see it with Greyjoy at least,” Sandor huffed, taking his turn. “Finally above the fucking middle of the board…”

“Language. There are children here,” Tyrion scolded. “Was Robb next? I’ll play through for him.”

The party continued on with Arya and Meera sitting down with Loras and Gendry to play video games and Bran and Jojen chattering about something Tyrion assumed was important to their age group, Pod had finally finished listening to Rickon give a speech on how dogs were awesome, and Jon, Sansa and Sandor discussing safe places to walk dogs in the area.

“AHHH!”

Everyone jolted at the yelp, with Sandor, Loras, Jon, and Arya on their feet in seconds, looking for the trouble.

Rickon Stark rushed over to Jon, clinging to his legs. “Jon! Robb’s _kissing_ somebody!”

Tyrion leaned back. Theon and Robb were in the doorway to Margaery’s room, looking mortified.

Right. Margaery’s room was right next to a bathroom…oh dear.

Loras grinned, “Renly, you owe me five buck—ow!”

“I cannot believe you just said that!” his sister hissed, stalking back over to Sansa.

Theon looked like he was about to lunge at Loras, but Robb put a hand on his arm. “Come on, let it go. He’s probably drunk—you kind of made enough to waste the entire party three times over, after all.”

Theon folded his arms and muttered something. Tyrion vaguely heard “stupid jock” and stupid car” but that was all that was clear.

“What about his car?” Robb asked.

“What did he do to my Rose?” Loras demanded angrily.

“He didn’t _do_ anything!” Robb protested quickly as Renly sighed, “Loras, sit down, you’re drunk.”

“Wait, wait, _why_ are you kissing Theon?” Jon asked. Tyrion would personally blame the flush of inebriation on Theon and Robb’s faces, himself. “I thought you just wanted to catch up!”

“…Wow are you clueless,” Loras said. “I met Red there _once_ and knew he had the hots for Greyjoy! And you’re his _brother_!”

“Had the what?” Rickon asked.

“He’s saying Robb and Theon have cooties that make them kiss each other,” Arya said.

“AHHH!” Rickon screamed and hid behind Jon. Bran and Jojen also looked a bit alarmed.

“ _Arya_!” Robb, Sansa, and Jon scolded.

“It’s the best I can do, he’s only six!” Arya complained.

“So…your brother and Theon, huh?” Margaery asked Sansa. “Want to do lunch tomorrow and dish? There’s a great café by the park…”

Wait…was the Tyrell girl coming onto the Stark one now? Curse his love of alcohol, Tyrion was too inebriated to tell. Still, he was the one who’d encouraged this party, and Theon to be left alone with Robb. “Oh, give them their space, everyone! Honestly!”

“But it’s _Theon_ ,” Jon insisted.

“Jon!” Robb snapped as Theon demanded, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Everyone just calm down!” Renly said. “Jon, I don’t know what you’re talking about but that did sound very rude. Loras, don’t tease Robb. Theon, don’t punch either of them. Robb…actually you’re fine, carry on. And Rickon, your sister’s teasing you, no one here has cooties, the human race has been getting shots at birth to prevent them. All cootie talk is lies.”

“So…Arya lied?” Rickon asked, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, sure—ow!” Renly hissed as Arya hit him with a pillow. “Do you want him scared to ever touch your brother or not?”

“If this turns into a fight I will call Brienne up here to settle things and you may not like her methods,” Tyrion said sharply. That woman could scold everyone back to mental kindergarten. Admittedly, it was fun to watch…

Everyone seemed to take a metaphorical step back.

“Sorry for wanting to beat your face in,” Loras said sulkily, glancing at Theon.

“It’s cool. I…kinda encourage it,” Theon muttered.

Jon shrugged, “Sorry for…rudeness?”

“Sorry for hitting,” Arya sighed. “Hey!”

Renly continued to hug her, “You’re forgiven, darling! I can’t stay mad at a badass little lady like yourself!”

“So…maybe he’s drunk too,” Gendry mused as Arya shoved Renly off and walked back to the other gamers.

“All right, I’m cutting everyone off,” Margaery sighed, heading for the kitchen. “Oh my _god_ Theon why are there this many drinks in here?”

“Training for a world record. Most mixed drinks made in an hour,” Theon cringed.

Robb laughed and kissed his cheek.

Gods. They were adorable. It was so…funny, really, given how deeply Theon was blushing.

“You are all lovestuck idiots. I am nowhere near this stupid with my lover,” Drogo declared. “Greyjoy, you should take Stark back into that room and-”

“No!” Theon, Margaery, Renly, Gendry, Sandor, and Tyrion all snapped.

“There are _kids_ here, man!” Loras added.

“My apologies to the children. I still think it’s a valid plan,” Drogo said.

And now Theon looked like someone had tried to dye his face pink as he put his head in his hands. Even Robb was wide-eyed and blushing under his freckles.

“Let’s end this,” Renly said. “Wonderful night, everyone, but we’re clearly too…well, sloshed for these topics. I hope to run into most of you this weekend, it’s going to be wonderful getting to know you Starks, but everyone out.”

“Especially you,” Loras said to Drogo.

“When you are less drunk you will panic about saying that to the owner of your favorite gym,” Drogo chuckled as he went for the door.

Tyrion smirked as Robb gave Theon an honest-to-god goodnight kiss. Soon he, the Tyrells, Renly, and Theon were all that was left.

“Well, that was fun!” Margaery said. “Theon, no offense, but…I don’t think we can pay you all fifty since you used up almost all our alcohol in mixing those things. That was…rather wasteful Twenty all right?”

“Eh, still evens out to ten bucks an hour of mixing,” Theon said.

“Oh my gods, everyone, Theon’s _smiling_. Really _smiling_!” Renly said.

“Bug off,” Theon muttered, going to the kitchen to get his equipment.

“Theon, precious, you have to tell me all about how your first date goes!” Renly called. “Oh my god this is so exciting!”

“Loras, make out with your guy so he stops pestering me!” Theon called.

Loras ignored him and looked at Tyrion, “So, think he told Stark about…that?”

“No. And you will not either,” Tyrion said. “Or there will be serious consequences.”

“Fine but hiding things won’t help him,” Loras said.

“Theon needs time, you idiot,” Tyrion replied.

“…Do you think that creep might start coming around, though? If he thinks Theon’s moving on?”

“That’s what Brienne and Sandor are for, but if he does come and bothers you, by all means do what you must,” Tyrion replied, taking his daiquiri. “I’ll bring the glass back tomorrow, Loras. Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Theon and Robb are getting started! And maybe so are Margaery and Sansa... Also meet Jon, Drogo, Gendry, and the Reeds!  
> Little bit of drama at the end there as we get more hints about Theon's stalker (Pfft. Hints. As if most of you haven't guessed, amirite?). Also Jon got some time, finally, as did Arya and Rickon!  
> Next time Tyrion gets to have "Fun with Phones" as people seem determined to call his office all day!


	8. Fun on the Phone

“Tyrion Lannister speaking.”

“Lannister, the fuck did you to do my best bartender?” Oh. Dagmer Cleftjaw—and really, who had a last name like _Cleftjaw_?—was checking in again.

“The twenty-five year old is your best bartender? He’s been there, what, three years?”

“And I haven’t seen him in this good a mood since…ever. Except maybe his first paycheck.”

“Wonderful to know Theon is no longer clinically depressed. And you blame this on me because?”

“Well who else could have done it?”

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “I am not the only person on the face of the earth capable of influencing the moods of Theon Greyjoy.”

“Then you know who did?”

“I’d assume the new boyfriend.”

“He’s dating again? Took him long enough.”

“Indeed. Remind me, why are you so interested in Theon’s life again?”

“Someone ought to be. And I could ask you the same.”

Hmm. Well, he had the excuse of his and Theon bonding over having truly terrible fathers, if nothing else. “He’s one of my oldest tenants. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Eh, suppose the brat needs someone at home,” Dagmer said. “…What’s this new one like, anyway? Better not be like-”

“Heavens no. College student, working on providing for his siblings, possible anxiety issues but otherwise mentally healthy from what I can see.”

“Good. So, Theon done anything to the gym rat’s car yet? I know he’s been plotting against it…”

“Oh, that. Loras has been needling him more than usual lately. I’m hoping the relationship takes enough for his free time so I don’t have to call the cops on anyone.”

“Be good to not have to. Anyway, just checking, Lannister. Bye.”

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion Lannister speaking.”

“Hey, Tyrion-”

“ _No_ Jaime, I will _not_ give you Brienne’s phone number.”

“…I actually wasn’t about to ask that.”

Tyrion sighed, running a hand down his face, “Apologies, then. What?”

“Apparently you pissed off Dad again.”

“Tragedy of tragedies. What did I do this time?”

“Rented a place to the Stark kids.”

“For _fuck’s sake_ Jaime, am I supposed to deny them based on…whatever it is he doesn’t like them for?”

“You don’t know?”

“Look, despite my minor interest in gossip I haven’t really had the time to so much as google them for information beyond the paperwork they gave me,” Tyrion said. “I know their parents died in a car crash and the kids sold the house to have enough money to all go to college. That’s it.”

“So _that’s_ why they…never mind.”

“And none of that goes to Father, without saying, of course.”

“Of course,” Jaime said. “See, their dad was the head of the state ethics board for years. You know, the agency whose job it is to investigate the other agencies?”

“Yes, Robert put him in the job when he was first elected governor. Stannis was his chief officer, I think with…what was the second officer’s name, Davos?”

“Well…you might not know, since, you know, you’ve been away so long, but Stark…really annoyed Father. Got close to a lot of things.”

“Oh dear, the head of rooting out corruption rooting out actual corruption, however shall we cope?” Tyrion asked. “Wait…you don’t think he-”

“No. Hell no. For one Stark quit a year ago, and I saw Father's face when it was on the news. It was the one like when Joffrey stood on that chair and started listing the words you can’t say on television. Well, that and then sadistic glee.”

“Good. I’d hate for that to be the case,” Tyrion sighed. “Right, so: Starks?”

“I don’t care what you do with them. Just saying he’s mad.”

“Well I have yet to care about him being mad,” Tyrion said. “I’d hate for our call to be entirely about Father, got anything else?”

“…May I have her _work_ number, at least?”

“No.”

“Damn. Well, I’ve got to get back to work soon, little brother. I’ll call later this week, I promise!”

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion Lannister speaking.”

“Hello, this is Samwell Tarly. Do you hold things for your residents?”

“Why do you ask?” Tyrion asked.

“Jon, Jon Stark that is, had to run to make his date and left his coat. I kind of have a club meeting in an hour and won’t see him for the rest of today, so could I come over and leave it there?”

“Sure. Drop it at the front desk, give Podrick time to examine it and write your name and who it’s for.”

They’d gotten a bit iffy on drop-offs not from the post office since Drogo’s girlfriend dropped off something for a school project and forgot to tell them to leave it out of the sun and it got put under a window and exploded. Also the time Renly’s brother Robert dropped off what turned out to be moonshine in cola bottles and Sandor almost went blind.

Still, this seemed reasonable enough. It was just a coat.

“Oh, thank you Mr. Lannister! I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“I’ll tell Podrick and Sandor to expect you.”

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion Lannister speaking.”

“Hi uncle!”

“Tommen!” Tyrion said. “How are you?”

“Fine. Did you know Mom and Granddad are mad at you?”

“Yes, your uncle Jaime informed me,” Tyrion said. “Sad to say I don’t know what I did. How’s your summer been?”

“Great! Great-Uncle Kevan took us to the waterpark yesterday!”

“I’m sure that was fun. Did your mother come too?”

“Yeah, but she wanted to just lay in the sun, so Great-Uncle Kevan took Myrcella and me on the rides.”

“What about Joffrey?”

“He stayed home and played video games.”

Of course he did. “And how’s your father?”

“Um…I think he’s good. Lots of governor stuff.”

So Tommen was being ignored. Again. Joy. “Is your sister getting excited about your birthday?”

“Yeah, but she and mom are having the fight about not inviting you again.”

Oh dear. He loved that his niece wanted him to come, but was starting to wish she could learn to pick her battles. “Well, I hope she likes the gift even if I don’t come with it.” She’d been obsessed with Frozen ever since last Christmas, according to her tumblr. So he’d gone with Frozen-themed school supplies and a snowflake necklace.

“I’m sure she will. You get the _best_ presents, uncle!”

“Thank you, Tommen, that’s very sweet of you. Have any other plans for the week?”

“Um, not really. Ooh, ooh, do you think maybe Uncle Jaime can take us to see the space superhero movie when it comes out and you can just, you know, show up there when we get there?”

“Well, don’t you think Joffrey will want to see it too?”

“Him and his friends are going at midnight. I don’t want to go at midnight.”

Ah, naturally. “I’ll see what I can do. I must admit, I like the raccoon and talking tree…and the music from my childhood.”

“Wait, that’s where those songs are from?”

“Indeed they are. Your uncle Jaime could never stop playing that one from the trailer in his car’s tape deck.”

“What’s a tape deck?”

“Something so ancient you will never understand,” Tyrion said.

“Okay. Bye Uncle Tyrion!”

“Goodbye Tommen.”

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion Lannister speaking.”

“Could you connect me to Theon Greyjoy’s room?”

“He doesn’t have a phone line connected to mine, so no,” Tyrion said. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Steve. From work.”

“You can’t be calling from work, he’s there right now.”

“No, I work with him. Need him to cover a shift.” The fake accent was slipping now and Tyrion recognized the voice.

“Need I remind you, _Ramsay,_ that you are treading very close to a conviction for stalking as it is?” Tyrion asked. “You do not have the means of contacting Theon for a reason. And if you call me again I will call the police. Goodbye.”

He hung up and dialed the number for _The Drowned God_. “Dagmer, it’s Tyrion. Have someone walk Theon to his car tonight. Nothing much, just trying to get a phone number from me. Of _course_ I didn’t give it to him, I’m not _stupid_. All right. Goodbye.”

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion Lannister speaking.”

“Tyrion. It’s Stannis.”

“Hello,” Tyrion said, wracking his brain for why Stannis would call him. “For what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need to talk about Renly.”

“Then call Loras. Or Margaery. Or, hell, Brienne.”

“I can’t call the Tyrells, it involves them. Well, Loras, anyway.”

“…All right, let’s hear this one,” Tyrion sighed, pretending that city’s head prosecutor was _not_ calling him over his brother’s love life.

“They seem…happy, yes?”

“Yes.” For gods’ sake Loras was practically climbing Renly by the end of the party last week…

“And…serious?”

“Please ask them.”

“I just want a third opinion on whether it would be appropriate to invite Loras along with him to Thanksgiving this year.”

“And you’re asking someone who won’t be there because—wait, _third_ opinion?”

“I asked Davos before you.”

Oh, well that made sense. The investigator was Stannis’ best friend and usual minder regarding his more out there ideas. “Well, I say certainly. Not that my family will like it but fine.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

Well his day was looking up. He got to arrange for Cersei to be forced to deal with not only Renly but Loras at Thanksgiving. Sure, it was months off, but just the mental images would keep him smiling for a week!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just various phone conversations Tyrion had the week after the party. It's also how we start introducing Jaime, Dagmer, Sam, Daenerys, Tommen, Robert, Ramsay and Stannis into this mess and find out a bit more about the Starks and Lannisters.  
> Next time Tyrion, Sandor, Theon, Gendry, and Podrick got to Sunspear Restaurant to vent their father's day frustrations in "The Lost Boys."


	9. The Lost Boys

“Table for five, the usual,” Tyrion said as he walked into Sunspear with Sandor, Theon, Pod, and Gendry.

“Should I be pleased that you didn’t bring more than last year?” Oberyn Martell asked, grabbing the menus.

“Oh the look on your face when we showed up with Gendry two years ago,” Tyrion chuckled.

“Well, I will admit I consider this an excellent coping skill for your circumstances,” Oberyn said.

“No, sorry, Sandor, Theon and I are the only ones old enough to drink, still,” Tyrion said. “So you won’t be selling too much alcohol.”

“Well, then, until those two get older this is still a despicable tradition,” Oberyn said. “Drowned God still doing well, Greyjoy?”

“From what I know. I don’t handle the accounting or anything,” Theon said, shrugging.

If Oberyn objected to Theon’s grunge, Pod’s plaid shirt, Gendry’s faded denim, or Sandor’s half-destroyed leather jacket, he didn’t show it. Then again, only Tyrion ever managed anything remotely near dress code for these things.

They were placed far away from the other diners, off in an alcove.

“Happy Father’s Day, gentlemen,” Tyrion said as Oberyn walked back to the host’s stand.

“Fuck ‘em and fuck their day,” Sandor huffed. “I’m ordering more than one glass of wine, but if someone’s getting a bottle I’ll drink from that.”

“This merlot looks pretty good,” Tyrion mused. “Theon, care to share a bottle?”

“Nah. I’m drinking beer. Lots and lots of beer,” Theon said. “…Maybe some vodka. Actually these tequila mixes look good, I’ll start with one of them…maybe more than one…”

“Who’s driving again, you or me?” Gendry asked Pod.

“Podrick is driving. I barely trust you with _riding_ in my car,” Tyrion said.

“Ouch,” Theon noted.

“He did put that dent in the Reed’s car when his ma was teaching him to park,” Sandor shrugged.

“Oh dear, here again?”

“Ellaria, lovely to see you,” Tyrion said. “And you well know this is a yearly tradition.”

Oberyn’s wife shook her head. “All right, what do the under-twenty-ones want to drink?”

“Water,” Pod said.

“I’ll take a ginger ale,” Gendry said.

“All right and the heavy drinkers?” Ellaria asked.

“Sandor and I will split the Dornish Merlot. Full bottle,” Tyrion said.

“And I’ll take two Bloody Aztecs to start,” Theon said.

“To start?” Ellaria asked.

“Oh, there will be more drinks later,” Theon agreed.

“Driver?” she asked.

“Me,” Podrick said.

“All right then,” she said, shooting Tyrion a dirty look. He assumed she considered him an enabler.

“So, who wants to start complaining first?” Tyion asked.

“No complaints here, just the usual bitterness,” Gendry said. “I mean, at least he started paying the damn child support _eventually_ , huh? Fourteen years too late, but hey, we’ve had it for two…”

“Let it out, man,” Theon said. “And, hey, isn’t someone supposed to make him do backpay on that? I know I saw it on a court show or something…”

“I think it’s between him and Gendry’s mother and they decided to keep it quiet. Which means no suing him for back payments,” Tyrion said.

“I mean, for fuck’s sake, _I_ thought he was _dead_! And mom still won’t tell me _who_ it is so I can go yell at the bastard!” Gendry seethed. “I mean…why does _he_ deserve being protected?”

“Amen,” Tyrion said.

“Lots of college assholes don’t think about where they’re putting their cocks,” Sandor agreed. “An’ then they’re shocked when some girl shows up with a kid. Suppose he wasn’t expecting a teenager, but, well, your mum’s just too nice sometimes.”

“Anyways, that’s it. The usual,” Gendry said grumpily.

“And as usual you father is a truly impressive specimen of scum,” Tyrion said.

“S-same usual,” Pod said. “Glad I m-moved out. He’s still d-dis-d-disappointed. Nothing on, well, what you’ve g-got, Theon, but…yeah.”

Theon smirked grimly at the reminder of what he had as their drinks were brought.

“Just think Podrick,” Tyrion said. “Next year you get to drink alcohol with us!”

“Not if you need a driver and it’s your car,” Pod quipped.

“True,” Tyrion said as Sandor poured the wine.

“Don’t worry, Gendry. One day you won’t have to be sober,” Theon laughed.

“Orders?” Ellaria sighed, shaking her head.

They managed to skim their menus and pick out their dishes fairly quickly, despite not having paid attention to them at all until that moment.

“All right, Greyjoy, you’re up. Youngest to oldest rules and all,” Sandor said.

Theon took several gulps of his first drink. “Okay, so, you all recall the usual, right?”

“Indeed,” Tyrion said. “Neglect, emotional abuse, escalated to physical abuse which is why you left.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Theon said. “Well…well the dick’s been bringing his dock buddies into the Drowned God earlier this year. Because, you know, sure, why not?”

“Did he find out you worked there?” Gendry asked.

“Oh, it gets fucking better,” Theon said. “I actually served him a few times and he seemed…well, like any other customer. Which was totally fine by me until I knew why.”

“Th-that sounds…unusual. F-for your dad,” Pod said. “He used t-to call the front desk and y-yell to make us connect to you.”

“And that’s why I don’t have a phone on the building’s grid anymore,” Theon said. “But guess, just _guess_ why it was?”

“…He didn’t know it was you?” Sandor tried.

“Ding-ding, we have winner!” Theon snarled, finishing his first Aztec off and going for the second. “His own son was mixing his drinks in front of him and he had no fucking clue! Hope my eyesight doesn’t degenerate as much as his clearly has, I like my fucking archery too much…”

“You mean he came in, ordered from you several times—which indicates he had to actually talk with you—and _still_ didn’t manage to notice? I know the lighting is a bit dim in there but damn,” Tyrion said.

“This one’s not mixed so well,” Theon mused at his second drink. “Huh? Oh, yeah, my dick of a sperm donor…”

Sandor snickered at his phrasing.

“So, yeah, about two months later one of his coworkers suddenly peers at me all funny and is like ‘wait, Balon, ain’t this one of yours?’ and my dad asks what my name his and, so, you know, I told him. Fucker threw his drink at me.”

“He did what?” Tyrion demanded.

“Chill, chill, Dagmer made him leave. And Olyvar offered to to key his car if he shows up again.”

“Why’d he throw the drink at you?”

“I’m a hippie, apparently,” Theon said.

“Because…your hair’s past your chin?” Gendry asked. “The earrings? The necklace? Seriously, where the hell did that even come from?”

“No clue,” Theon said. “Might even just be because I left home. Dick.”

“You. A hippie?” Sandor muttered. “Fuck, no, you’re a punk! Or…maybe…maybe a…rebel?”

Tyrion snickered at Sandor apparently insistence of correctly categorizing Theon. “Rebels need a cause, Sandor.”

“Oh, and he’s been telling Asha not to talk to me. So, yeah, _that_ went over with her like a ton of bricks. She’s already deployed, she’ll phone whatever relatives she pleases when she has the chance,” Theon chuckled. “Man I’d pay to see the look on his face if he heard her admit she calls me more than him…”

“Sweet revenge,” Gendry laughed.

“Nothing new for me,” Sandor said as Theon started trying to signal Ellaria to bring him another drink. “Usual. I mean, the statute of limitations ran out ages ago anyway, so it doesn’t even matter that he covered for Gregor anymore.”

“Still not speaking?”

“I’m not. He tries now and then. Fucking tried to invite me to one of Gregor’s games, the jackass.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes, “You’re missing nothing. In case you forgot, _my_ father owns that that team. Vanity project, you know. I might be mostly-disowned, but I know they’ve no chance against the team Brynden Tully put together. They’re not making it anywhere near the super bowl any time soon.”

“Still. The league should make a rule against hiring and then protecting psychopaths,” Sandor huffed. “Wondering when he’ll actually kill someone.”

“You know , there are some other outlets for this sort of thing,” Gendry said. “Internet loves a good cover-up. You know, if you need it.”

“Ooh, tempting,” Sandor chuckled. “I’ll find the paparazzi if I ever need to retire, then.”

“A lovely plan indeed,” Tyrion said as their food arrived.

“What about you?”

“Well, apparently my father dislikes who I rent to,” Tyrion said. “There’s a certain family he wants out. Not that I care, but _well_.”

“First he bitches at you for running a relatively affordable place in the city and then he bitches at you since you’re not running it how he likes? God your dad’s a control freak,” Theon muttered.

“Yours has done similar. ‘Get out of my house! Wait, why are you working in a job like that as if you don’t actually need to support yourself now?’” Tyrion replied.

Theon snorted as he cut into his lasagna. “No, no, you need to sound more gravelly. And more bitter about how the world never gives you a break even though you never fucking try for one!”

“Anything else?” Pod asked.

“Oh, I still can’t go to my niece and nephew’s birthdays, or Jaime’s birthday, or any other family function,” Tyrion said. “Of course both Jaime and Tommen have discovered that they can imply meet up with me outside of the actual party so, well, there’s that.”

“Heh. Undermining the old man, your golden-boy bother is?” Sadnor chucked.

“Yes, it’s actually quite amusing.”

The meal finished with a few more comments about how Tyrion’s father was a prick and Tyrion ordered a large quantity of pastires for deserts. “All right, you know the rules. Time to think happy thoughts, boys.”

“If I hadn’t moved out I doubt I’d be having fantastic Frenching sessions with Robb Stark right now,” Theon said proudly.

“Oh my god, I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again,” Gendry muttered.

“That’s…something,” Tyrion conceded. He was too drunk to say what kind of something.

“No, seriously, the old man is a major homophobe,” Theon said. “…Maybe that’s why he called me a hippie? I don’t know…d’you guys think…gay would equal hippie to a guy like that?”

Podrick reached over before Theon swayed clean out of his chair. “Maybe.”

Sandor ignored them in favor of the tray of treats Ellaria brought out. “Dibs on strawberry sauce.”

“That’s nice, Sandor. Do what you do,” Tyrion said.

“I mean Robb’s _so_ fucking sexy…wanna climb that like a tree. A really red, cute tree,” Theon mused.

“Not hearing this!” Gendry insisted

“What sorta tree you think Stark would be?” Sandor asked, munching on something doughy with powdered sugar on it he’d dunked too hard in the sweet red sauce.

Tyrion took one. He could go for some powdered sugar. “Redwood. Obviously. Did you not hear the descriptor for red? Though, Theon, please do not actually try to copulate with a tree. I’m sure splinters down there would be very painful.”

“Lalalala,” Gendry muttered, trying to cover his ears and eat sweets at the same time. “Lalalalala-”

“Oh, pick another note already!” Sandor complained. “What’s wrong with fa or si?”

“Well, yeah, but Robb would be a _non_ -splintery tree…” Theon sighed.

Tyrion shook his head. “No, I mean real trees. No screwing _real_ trees.”

Podrick raised a hand in the air. “Check please!”

.o.o.o.

Tyrion woke up in his own bed with a note pinned to his lampshade.

_Tyrion, you are damn lucky I knew this would happen and had Robb and Jon hanging around to help me. Do you have any idea how heavy Sandor and Theon are? And Theon kept talking about tree with Robb while trying to take Robb’s shirt off. NEVER AGAIN. Brienne_

“…She said that last year too,” he chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! We have backstory, drunkeness, and the Martells!  
> Next time we'll see a few different things that happen as the summer wears on in "Summer Shenanigans"


	10. Summer Shenanigans

_July 4_

“You know, this has never happened before,” Tyrion said idly as the roof returned to order. “Which, given this building, is actually quite a shock.”

“The fire department’s going to kill us,” Renly said. “And then Robert’s going to yell at me for making him look bad because the fire department killed me.”

“Oh do calm down, Brienne appears to have the flames extinguished. Really I’m shocked it was a grill and not the myriad of fireworks Drogo and Daenerys are setting up,” Tyrion said. “Have Loras and Pod pulled Sandor out of that corner yet?”

Renly craned his neck, “No. Looks like Sansa’s joined them…to be fair, if there was anyone to have a fear of fire…Brienne, could you try spraying him with whatever’s left in the extinguisher?”

She frowned and held it up, tapping a bright yellow label, “Warning. Not for skin contact.”

Renly sighed, “Damn, could have been funny—oh my _god_ Theon are you actually trying to eat that?”

“It’s not actually that charred!” Theon whined as Robb snatched his plate and tossed it to the dogs. “Oh come on! I’m hungry!”

“…I’m ordering Chinese,” Tyrion sighed.

 

_July 16_

“All right, I give. What’s with him?” Tyrion asked.

“I have no idea but it terrifies me,” Brienne replied. “I’ve never seen Loras so focused.”

“Even on Renly?”

“Shockingly, yes. Not even on Renly.”

“…How long has he been staring at the paper, exactly?”

“Half an hour,” Brienne replied.

“Did you ask what was wrong?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“He did that thing where he thinks he’s glaring impressively but is too pretty to pull it off,” Brienne said.

“Intriguing,” Tyrion said. “Well it can’t be a paper for college, he’s not taking a summer term. Do you think he’s trying to improve his resume? That takes some people a very long time.”

“But then why the lobby? Why not his apartment with his sister who studies things like making the perfect resume?” Brienne asked.

“Well, maybe it’s not that, then,” Tyrion said.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Loras asked, still tapping his pen on the paper.

“Oh. Well then?” Tyrion asked.

“Letter. To my grandmother,” Loras said. “If I ask how she is she’ll berate me for thinking she’s frail. If I don’t she’ll ask why I never ask. And that’s just _one_ catch-twenty-two she pulls.”

“…Damn,” Tyrion said. “Sounds like back when I was trying to stay in my father’s good graces.”

“Well, no, she does…sort of mean well. It’s weird,” Loras said. “She just likes teasing me.”

“…Say while you’re sure everything’s fine you just want to know specifics since you haven’t seen her recently,” Brienne said.

“Think that’ll work?” Loras asked.

“it’s how I defend not know who my dad’s sleeping with in any given month,” Brienne replied.

“Point taken,” Loras agreed.

 

_July 28_

“So is there anyone you know for certain you will beat or lose to?” Tyrion asked.

“Oberyn usually gives me trouble,” Brienne said. “He’s got a lot of stamina.”

“True but he usually doesn’t take getting kicked in the collarbone-area well. Or, well, the head, but I know you usually don’t do that even with the padded helmets…” Renly said. “Oh my.”

“What oh my?” Loras asked. “Oh gods don’t tell my I’m fighting Brienne in the first round, I want to get one win!”

“I know, I’d never bet on you in that circumstance,” Tyrion agreed.

“Gee, thanks,” Loras said.

“No, no,” Renly said, turning his tablet around to show them the roster for the free-fighting charity tournament. “Look who you’re fighting first, Brienne.”

Her shoulders went rigid at whatever she read, so Tyrion reached up and pulled the tablet down. “Kickboxer Brienne Tarth vs. Boxer Ramsay Bolton. I am so happy I have a camera.”

“Well, you won’t need to get Theon a birthday present this year!” Renly laughed. “Now, let me see what you can get away with-”

“I can fight him perfectly well within the rules while still potentially fracturing something,” Brienne said.

“You go girl,” Loras said.

 

_August 9_

“Oh my god that was the coolest thing ever!” Tommen said breathlessly. “With Groot shooting out the vine and then _bam!_ ”

“And Rocket making the thing to blow up moons!” Rickon said. “ _Moons_!”

“And Gamora just kicking the guard in the face!” Myrcella said.

“Personally I enjoyed Yondu the most,” Tyrion said.

“Star-Lord,” Jaime said.

“ _Who_?” Theon asked innocently.

“Shut up, Greyjoy,” Jaime muttered.

Tyrion shook his head, smiling. He hadn’t meant to bring Theon along, but the boy had been watching Rickon for Robb and when Rickon heard “Guardians of the Galaxy” well, that was that.

At least it gave Tommen a friend his age.

“And then Rocket was kicking the grass!” Tommen laughed, apparently now totally immersed in a play-by-play with Rickon.

“I think we can say they liked it,” Theon snickered. “Rickon, I know you’ve made a friend, but come on. Let’s let the Lannisters have their family time.”

“Okay,” Rickon sighed. “Bye Tommen!”

“Since when is Gloomy Greyjoy capable of being so…that?” Jaime asked after Theon had picked Rickon up and gone off in search of ice cream and a bus stop.

“New boyfriend,” Tyrion said shrugging. “I’m assuming it’s a long honeymoon phase.”

“Damn, was that all he needed?” Jaime asked as they entered a restaurant. “I mean he seems enough of a flirt to have gotten one by now…”

“They have macaroni!” Tommen cheered when the hostess handed him a menu.

“And they have cake for dessert! Can we Uncle Tyrion, Uncle Jaime, please?” Myrcella pleaded.

“Yeah, come on, Tyrion, it’s cake!” Jaime agreed eagery.

Tyrion weighed whether or not to call his brother a child in front of their niece and nephew. He decided to spare Jaime’s pride. “I have nothing against cake. But let’s eat food first.”

 

_August 13_

Tyrion hated the time right before dorm students started to move in for college in King’s Landing. He usually had twenty to thirty rooms go to them and so, _so_ many would break nearly everything in the room before the year was out and try to claim it was covered by the lease when it _wasn’t_.

This year he and Brienne had decided on bright posters with large print in addition to large leaflets and firm explanations to any parent who happened to come with the student.

Gods, he’d give quite a lot to have more of them be like the Tyrells or Starks. For them to act like normal human beings instead of party-crazed lunatics…

At least the law was on his side. Renly had informed him that Stannis had been on TV recently discussing new punishments for breaking the old noise ordinances.

His head lifted from the poster he was editing at the sound of snickers. He left his office to find Gendry trying to duck udner the desk while laughing. “What is it?”

“I don’t think they realized the front windows and door can see out at night. I mean, gods!” Gendry laughed. “They’re being fucking _adorable_! I’ll not look Theon in the face without laughing for weeks!” The snickers turned slightly hysterical. "And, well, then he'll kill me, but still!"

Tyrion walked up the small stepladder he used to see over the desk.

Robb and Theon were in a corner just outside the doors, hell, Robb was leaning on the window right beside one. The Stark was nearly as red as his hair and Theon had one of those soft smiles that Tyrion noted was similar to the ones Jaime had when Brienne was tolerating him, his hand on Robb’s face.

The duo exchanged an excruciatingly soft kiss and Tyrion shooed Gendry into his office. The last thing he needed was Theon starting a shouting match for being laughed at.

“Evening boys,” he greeted as if he hadn’t seen anything. “Last late night before college starts up, Stark?”

“Yeah, something like that. Theon, you ever need to get some sleep and the new kids are being too noisy, just come hang out in our place, okay?” Robb asked.

“Sure. Sounds good,” Theon said, shrugging.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow as they walked to the elevator. Theon had his hand in one of Robb’s back pockets. Was that the new way to grab-ass now?

“Oh _god_ I hope none of them need to talk to me this week,” Gendry wheezed as Tyrion let him come back to the desk. “I’ll never manage!”

“Then work on your self-control,” Tyrion advised. “Or you’ll never make it in a full time job.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a time-skippy chapter, just giving us a few looks at people as the summer goes on and school is about to start.  
> But next time Renly has to deal with brotherly love and Tyrion has to deal with it in his lobby and office in "The Baratheon Invasion"


	11. The Baratheon Invasion

Tyrion had been trying to have a quiet day. Most of the rowdy new bunch were off to their first day of class or sleeping in from their drunken parties and he’d hoped beyond hope that would be that.

So far the highlight of the day had been Jon Stark wheedling Sandor into helping him herd all six dogs into his car so he could pick up Rickon from elementary school and then they’d take the pack to the dog park. Admittedly, watching Sandor then go through half a lint roller had been hilarious.

“Boss, giving you a warning from camera three.”

“Three?” he asked Sandor through the employee intercom. That was the front door; if it was bad Sandor would have said so, so why the warning?

“Governor and Attorney General,” Sandor relayed. “And…yep, see ‘em on two now, looks like Robert’s scaring Pod a bit.”

“I can hear him,” Tyrion said, leaving his office because frankly he’d rather be able to understand the booming voice that was shaking his walls. “Governor Baratheon, Attorney General Baratheon, lovely to see you.”

“I-I was j-j-just telling them I-I don’t have a-a-a way t-to call Renly,” Pod said.

“I _told_ you. This isn’t a building like that,” Stannis said, shaking his head at Robert and pulling out his cell phone.

“Tyrion, great to see you too!” Robert said. “Things still looking up for you? Ha-ha!”

Poor Pod, the boy looked mortified just for hearing that. Tyrion simply told himself that he’d have more ammo if sinking Robert’s political career ever became an ambition of his.

“Things are going rather well. I’ve got quite a few freshmen this year and thus far they’ve been too skittish about their first classes to party.”

“Ah, right, only Landing Tech has enough dorms to be able to require freshman stay on campus…so, more Westeros U or State U?” Robert asked.

“Ah…looked like more State from what the kids carried in but then it’s hard to tell, really. I mean I have the numbers of both…but, well,” Tyrion said. “I’d have to check the books.”

“We’re in the lobby right— _yes_ , I told him, he wanted to…I don’t know,” Stannis sighed into the phone. “Yes, thank you.”

He hung up and pocketed it, “He’ll be right down. Incidentally, Tyrion, the universities are sending out mailing lists to all approved housing landlords and supervisors about the various sororities and fraternities that are not allowed to host parties this year. Also flyers you can print out.”

“Yes, I’ve seen them,” Tyrion said. “Apparently this Friday’s the start of party week?”

“Yes,” Stannis said. “Davos and Chief Mormont talked and she’s putting extra patrols out, so if someone gets thrown out a window or something-”

“I hope not. I paid very well for extra hard to break glass when I first bought and renovated the building,” Tyrion said.

Robert laughed, “Never underestimate drunken college students!”

“Oh, and of course report all underage drinking,” Stannis added.

“Of course,” Tyrion said. Though if the kids had any brains they’d do it in the privacy of their own rooms…

Renly came out of the elevator, “So, Robert, what’s the problem again?”

“We’re trying to keep Thanksgiving small this year,” Robert said, walking over, Stannis at his side. “Only immediate family or significant others. So I told Stannis you couldn’t bring Loras.”

Wait, what? Tyrion fought the urge to back off his stepstool, walk into his office, and shut the door as Renly’s cheeks tinged pink and his lips thinned and he ground out, “I don’t see the point.”

“Well, I know you’re close but, well, so are Stannis and Davos-”

Oh gods. He didn’t even know. Tyrion shared a mortified look with Pod who quickly ducked into the office himself.

“So I can’t bring the most _important_ person in my life-”

“Well you could bring a date, lord knows everyone seems to wonder if you’ll ever marry. You just need to find a nice girl-” Robert began.

“You idiot, _I’m gay_!” Renly snapped. “I have been _acting_ gay as all get out since high school! I am the living definition of camp! _I live with my boyfriend!_ How did you not notice?”

“I thought you lived here with a brother and sister,” Robert said blankly.

“And he’s _dating_ the _brother_ ,” Stannis said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, Robert. He’s brought Loras around us several times by now already! To be honest, Renly, I’m just shocked you don’t have a ring yet…”

Tyrion silently asked the gods why this had to happen in his lobby. Then he looked out the door and his eyes widened. “Excuse me-”

“Oh thank god someone noticed,” Renly sighed. “I mean I didn’t know if you knew either, you’re so stone-faced…and religious.”

“As long as you worship the one true lord and do no harm you’re fine,” Stannis said.

“All right then. Good to know,” Renly said. “…Just to be clear, then, in your view I’m going to hell for poor-god-choice, not gayness?”

“No, you’re going to purgatory for that. You have yet to do anything heinous enough for hell. _Yet_.”

“Oh, that’s fine then.”

“ _Excuse_ me,” Tyrion said a bit more firmly.

“You never said anything!” Robert said.

“I’ve brought Loras to family dinners _three times_!” Renly said.

“I beg your pardon but you are blocking the way in!” Tyrion snapped.

The brothers stopped arguing, looked and him, and then looked at the door where Jon, Rickon, a tall redheaded young lady, and the six Stark dogs were waiting outside. Rickon and the redhead looked bored, but Jon looked a bit stunned at having witnessed the scene.

“…Let’s take this upstairs,” Renly said. “You can even ask Loras how often we _have sex_ if that might help you understand, Robert!”

Tyrion had _not_ needed to hear that, but waved them at the elevator anyway.

Jon, Rickon, and presumably Jon’s elusive girlfriend came inside as the Baratheons took the elevator.

“What was that?” Jon asked.

“Despite Renly’s profound attempts to instantly activate any and all gaydar around him Robert somehow didn’t know,” Tyrion said.

“What’s gaydar?” Rickon asked.

“It’s something you’ll learn about in middle school,” the girlfriend said calmly. She glanced at Tyrion. “Ygritte.”

“Tyrion Lannister. Pleasure.”

“Good thing you have a fast elevator,” Jon said. “We need to get these dogs upstairs and…well, Summer and Lady don’t seem to _understand_ stairs.”

“They are the smaller ones. You and I could carry them,” Ygritte offered.

“Smaller, not small, and it’s seven flights,” Jon said. “Summer’s over fifty pounds and Lady’s still ‘only’ forty-five. Plus fluff.”

Sansa’s white pooch was _incredibly_ fluffy, Tyrion would give Jon that. Very well behaved, though. She’d been in the lobby when a gaggle of college girls had moved in and had let them coo over her like a champion.

As Pod slunk out of the office Ygritte kissed Jon, causing him to go bright red in the face.

Damn. And here Tyrion had pegged Robb as the blusher of the family. He quickly found something else to look at, “Rickon, pressing the button more times won’t make the elevator come faster.”

“Oh, okay,” Rickon said, leaning against the wall and letting his black fuzzy nightmare and Robb Stark’s wolf-like dog wrestle on the floor. The wolf was winning.

Finally the elevator came and Jon managed to shoo everyone in.

“Can you believe I was just thinking about how wonderfully quiet it had been today not half an hour ago?” Tyrion asked.

Pod gave him a long-suffering look before turning back to his math books.

.o.o.o.

The rest of the day had been fairly smooth. Robert had slunk out of the building looking quite stunned and Stannis had paused at the door to remind Tyrion to prepare for the insanity of the coming Friday night.

Theon had gone out to work at five-thirty, and had been very excited at the prospect of Friday being a great night for tips. Robb had brought Bran and Arya in from their after school activities shortly after and was sad he’d missed Theon. Loras and Renly went out at six for dinner somewhere, Renly wearing tighter pants than usual. Sansa Stark hurried in around seven thirty, so Tyrion assumed coming back from a dinner of her own.

Eight-thirty was when things got a bit interesting. He’d been about to pack up for the night when Gendry had knocked on his office door, “Someone to see you, sir.”

“Who is…oh,” Tyrion said as his sister pushed past Gendry and into the office. “Cersei, lovely to see you.”

“I’m going to make this quick. Do you know why Robert was here today?”

“Yes, he and Stannis were visiting Renly. You can check the security cameras, they spent half the time arguing in the lobby,” Tyrion said.

“I see,” she said, her lips thinning most unbecomingly. “And why does he send checks here?”

“Checks?” Tyrion asked.

“I’ve seen a few. They go to this building,” she said.

“I…I suppose Renly might have needed some extra cash at some point?” Tyrion asked. “I don’t know, Cersei, the mail is all public post. I have nothing to do with it.”

“He sends them bi-monthly. Is Renly in that much trouble?” she asked.

“I have never seen these checks,” Tyrion pointed out. “I could not tell you even if I wanted to.”

“I check our account, someone’s been getting money for about two years now!” Cersei snapped. “Don’t you know what that means?”

It could mean many things. Blackmail. A mooch of a friend. Robert had injured someone and was paying an insurance claim. Child support-

Oh shit. Two years.

“It could mean a lot of things,” Tyrion said. “Look, unless you know what you’re looking for I can’t let you just go banging on doors, Cersei. I really can’t even assure your safety, the college students are all very tense right now, and well…”

“I’m going to find out what’s going on here!” she snapped.

“I’m sure you will,” he said. He watched as she put on large sunglasses and a hat and stormed out. He looked out the door.

Now that he thought about it, Gendry _did_ rather resemble…

Well. More blackmail if he ever needed leverage on the governor, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have Robert, Stannis, and Cersei! And Tyrion figuring out just who Gendry's deadbeat dad is.  
> The next two chapters will be a a pair, like the party. We'll start with the 'Friday from Hell' from the POVs of Tyrion, Theon, and Brienne.


	12. The Friday From Hell

BRIENNE

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as she entered Tyrion’s office. “That lock needed more work than I thought and-”

“It’s fine,” her boss said cutting her off. “We’re still waiting on Gendry.”

“…Why?” she asked.

“Yeah, boss, Gendry has tonight off,” Podrick said.

“…Who’s on front desk then?” Tyrion asked. “Not you, certainly, you’ve been doing it all day-”

“Me,” Brienne said.

“…Oh dear,” Tyrion said. “This…complicates things…Sandor, could you instead watch the front desk while Brienne and I patrol the halls?”

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I usually watch the front desk when the boys are busy.”

“I…tonight will likely be more than a bit out of control,” Tyrion said. “So I called in a favor for extra help…a favor named Jaime Lannister.”

“Oh gods,” Brienne muttered. “Why him?”

“He has an odd ability to make drunk people shut up and do what he says when he shouts,” Tyrion said. “Also that way someone can answer the phone while someone else handles an in-person complaint.”

“Here’s an idea, just tell everyone that if they party too fucking loud, they get fined,” Sandor said.

“And I’ll bet you every single one of them won’t pay it, then I have to go through the messy process of either kicking them out or trying to sue for the fine. Or both,” Tyrion said. “College students, Clegane. _Partying_ college students. Few of them listen to actual reason.”

“Look, I can stand being around your brother for a night,” Brienne sighed. “It’s one night, after all.”

“Don’t ask what could possibly go wrong,” Pod cautioned. “T-that never goes well.”

Brienne snickered, “Don’t be so superstitious Podrick. And besides, I know plenty can go wrong.”

 

TYRION

He’d just finished mapping a general patrol route and figuring out what cameras might need adjusting when Jaime arrived. “I have news you’ll like.”

“What?” Jaime asked, walking to Tyrion’s desk and pulling out the badge he used whenever Tyrion temporarily deputized him to help around here.

“It seems you’ll be watching the desk with Brienne tonight.”

Jaime looked altogether too pleased, “Not the sullen high school kid?”

“Gendry has tonight off. Visiting his grandfather or something, lucky boy, he and his mother won’t be here for this mess,” Tyiron mused. “However, just because I am putting you in the same vicinity as your schoolboy crush-”

“Schoolboy crush?” Jaime demanded.

“Well _I_ certainly don’t know what else to call it,” Tyrion said. “Still, I’m not giving you leave to act in any untoward manner with Brienne. She’s the senior employee here. If she tells you to go inspect a complaint in a bunny suit you’ll do it.”

“…I’m a little worried you’ve bought a bunny suit just in case she does,” Jaime said slowly.

“Tell me it’s a Playboy one,” Sando chuckled, coming in. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

“So would the world, and I don’t think our father would appreciate it if I put Jaime in a situation where someone might photograph him looking like that,” Tyrion said. “There’s cold coffee in the fridge. Your shift starts at five. Any other questions?”

Jaime frowned, “Hypothetically speaking-”

“No,” Tyrion said to whatever it was.

 

THEON

“Get moving!” Robb said, pushing him into the bathroom. “You’ll miss the bus otherwise!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Theon laughed. “Really, _darling_ , I can watch the clock myself!”

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off?” Robb asked.

“Nah, then I’ll forget my bus ticket and have no ride home.”

“I’d pick you up,” Robb said.

“Like I’m going to make you drive on these streets without a good reason tonight. Or any other time this weekend,” Theon said. “I’ll be fine.”

 

BRIENNE

He was already at the desk when she arrived. “Lannister.”

“Miss Tarth,” he said with a smile she assumed he thought was charming.

“All right, I want you handling the phone while I take in-person complaints. The default answer to noise complaints is that the landlord will look into it personally and we are so very sorry. Tyrion said you’re good at getting drunks to listen to you?”

“Works on the governor,” Jaime replied with a smirk.

She did not need to know that. “All right then, well, good if we need it.”

Jaime moved, allowing her to take thechair directly behind the desk. “Miss Tarth?”

“Yes?”

“…Just to be clear, my brother was joking about you being cruel enough to do something like make me answer a complaint in a bunny suit?”

Why hadn’t she thought of that? “Maybe.”

They both jumped as bass started pounding from above them.

“And so it begins,” Jaime sighed.

 

TYRION

“Right, come on,” Sandor huffed, hauling the idiots out of the elevator. “Pressing all the buttons isn’t funny, you dim bulbs, it’s stupid.”

“Heh. He said bulb,” one boy said to another.

Tyrion assumed they were drunk enough to confuse it for “balls.” “Be as that may, where are you going?”

“Top floor,” the other boy said.

“To see?” Tyrion asked.

“…Why do we need to see someone?” the first boy asked.

“If you don’t know who you’re going to see you’re not going to the top floor,” Tyrion explained.

“…Darth Vader?” one offered.

“I think there’s someone else willing to choke you,” Tyrion muttered under his breath, eyeing Sandor’s displeased expression.

A loud shriek of “OH MY GAWD!” came from down the hall.

“Fuck my life,” Sandor sighed, dragging the boys along.

“Indeed,” Tyrion agreed.

 

THEON

Theon’s night had actually been going well. Robb had kissed him before he’d gone to the bus stop, and he was planning on spending the next few nights on the Starks’ couch so he’d actually get some sleep despite the huge amount of college parties scheduled for this weekend.

He was pretty sure with some wheedling that Starks’ couch could _easily_ be Robb’s bed instead. Robb certainly seemed interested in it too…

But then he’d seen a familiar burgundy car pulling up when he’d stepped out a side door to toss a full trash bag and his hands couldn’t stop shaking.

“Calm down, I’ll handle the trash tonight,” Olyvar offered. “Okay?”

“He’ll get me after I leave,” Theon whimpered. Why _tonight_?

“No, we’ll do what we always do,” Olyvar offered. “I’ll walk you to your…you took the bus today, didn’t you?”

“Car’s in for getting hit by a college idiot,” Theon agreed. Why _tonight_?

“I suppose you could stay the night and I can shoot him if he tries breaking in,” Dagmer mused.

Theon shook his head. He wanted to go _home_. He handed Dagmer his phone. “Call Robb for me?”

“Can’t you do it?” Dagmer asked.

“No. If he hears me worrying then he’ll worry and _please_?” Theon asked. “I just need a ride.”

“Gods, boy,” Dagmer muttered, taking it. “Get back to work, the both of you.”

Theon went back to mixing drinks but couldn’t help a flinch when he felt his phone slide back into his pocket.

“Boy toy will be around right before closing. Said you were tired and I was worried you’d sleep clear through your stop,” Dagmer said.

“Thanks,” Theon told him.

He was able to work better through the rest of the night, especially when he caught a flash of red hair at the end of the bar right as things were winding down at two in the morning.

“Have a good night?” Robb asked as they started sweeping up and the bouncers were shooing stragglers.

“Robb, I could pay my half for a date at the fucking _Ritz_ with these tips,” Theon chuckled.

“I’d stick to pizza and ice cream all the same,” Robb replied. “Need some help?”

“Nah, then I’d have to pay you,” Dagmer said. “Sip your drink and then drive your boy home.”

It was right when they were going out the door that Theon realized a massive flaw with this plan.

Ramsay, thus far, had no proof Theon was with Robb. He’d probably seen Robb come here a lot but probably didn’t know why…

“What’s wrong?” Robb asked.

“Just get in the car. Please,” Theon said firmly.

Robb did as he was told, even being smart enough to lock the doors behind them before he started the engine. “What’s going on?”

“Remember how I said I had that bad relationship?” Theon asked. At least that car wasn’t following them… “Well, I kind of left out how bad. His stepmother had to crack him over the head with a frying pan to stop him from cutting off my finger.”

“ _What_?” Robb asked.

“Yeah, well, she made a deal with me to claim it was isolated for getting me out of there and at the time I was stupid and went for it and so I don’t have a fucking restraining order and once his folks moved out of town, well,” Theon babbled. “He…he’s been stalking me. For a while. And I usually have a way of avoiding him but tonight it didn’t work right and…”

Oh gods Robb was going to dump him. He knew it.

“Someone’s been _stalking_ you?”

“Yeah. Tyrion and Sandor keep him out of the building and Dagmer keeps him out of the bar and I usually only go places with people if it’s my car but now I’m fucking worried because I just realized he’s never seen us together and I’m scared with what he’ll do-”

“What, something he’d do to me? I’ll beat his fucking skull in if he so much as— _gah_!” Robb snapped, one hand punching the rim of the steering wheel. “Why…why didn’t you say anything?”

“…Was scared I’d scare you off,” Theon admitted.

Robb shook his head as he turned into the garage. “Idiot. Oh, and I hope you’re planning on the stairs, Sandor’s been yanking drunks out of the elevator all night. Hell, they’re so loud, feels like you need earphones in the lobby. Um….you…you still staying over?”

“Y-yeah,” Theon agreed. “S-sure.” They got out of the car and headed for the stairs, Robb seizing his hand.

“You know, you’re one of the best things in my life right now,” Robb said seriously.

Theon wondered how that was true, given what a mess he was. He ignored it and did what he was good at by kissing Robb in the stairwell. “You know, I never asked, but what _will_ your siblings say Stark, bringing someone home at this hour?”

“You should see when Jon and Ygritte drag themselves back from indie concerts,” Robb replied. “No complaints on that end.”

“Good,” Theon said. Because a first night in Robb’s room? He had _plans_ …

 

BRIENNE

“Why did I think we’d get legitimate calls?” Jaime asked after he finished dryly reassuring the caller that it was _no, their mom_.

“Because you’re an incurable optimist,” Brienne hissed before going back to explaining to a girl why she could not go to the roof to toss cotton balls off it.

This was going to be a night for the ages in regards to how often Brienne was mentally asking herself “why, god, why?”

The dejected drunk damsel left, and Brienne sunk into her seat. “What time is it?”

“…one in the morning. When do we get off?”

“Two.”

“…Where do I get to sleep, anyway?” Jaime wondered, chugging the umpteenth iced coffee.

Whether she was too high on caffeine, too tired to care, or too pleased he’s managed to stay professional even in the case of a drunk girl flashing him because she thought he’d be good in bed… “Well if Tyrion forgets to collect you, I have a couch.”

“You are a _goddess_ ,” Jaime muttered.

 

THEON

Hell yes. Best sex _ever_.

 

BRIENNE

Jaime fell face-first onto the couch and she was in the same mind to imitate him with her bed.

 

SANDOR

Sandor stared at his passed-out boss, sighed, and picked the small man up to take him to his office to sleep it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time things get better (or awkward and then better) in The Saturday from Heaven!
> 
> We really only got snippets of Brienne, Tyrion, Jaime, and Sandor's nights because let's face it, dealing with drunk idiots all night over and over might have gotten old. They have more to deal with in the morning.  
> And now Ramsay might know of Robb and Robb's still worried about Theon not telling him...don't worry, I won;t let it get too angsty!
> 
> GOOD NEWS! I have uploaded two pictures for this fic on my deviantart account! It's the same name, Kereea, so go check them out!


	13. The Saturday from Heaven

THEON

When Theon slowly blinked himself awake he nearly jumped out of bed when he realized this wasn’t his room and yet he was somehow still naked. Thankfully he recognized it as Robb’s room and so no one was kicked.

Robb shifted slightly and Theon glanced down at the Stark who was inches from his bare chest.

Oh. Robb was awake already. And blushing. And looking _really_ fucking guilty.

He started slightly when Theon moved to tilt his chin up. “Hey, what’s wrong, Stark?”

“I…I um…” Robb said blushing. “Do you…I mean did we…?”

“Yes, we fucked,” Theon said blankly. Robb hadn’t been drunk, right? Couse not, he’d driven Theon home, he’d been fine… _Theon_ had been a mess but Robb had been fine.

“I mean do you think we might have rushed things or…”

“Do you think we did?” Theon asked, concerned.

Robb sat up and Theon did the same. “I-I don’t know I just, I don’t, I don’t want to you know, screw this up and I’m so worried I just screwed this up and-”

Theon’s eyes widened as Robb started shaking and he quickly cupped Robb’s face. “Robb, Robb! Look at me, okay?”

“I don’t want to screw this up,” Robb said hoarsely.

Theon couldn’t help but grin, “And you haven’t, babe. It’s fine, I’m fine. I had a great time last night.”

“I’m sorry,” Robb sighed. “I-I just…worry. Even when I shouldn’t and I don’t mean anything by it but I just-”

“Look at me, Stark. Right at me,” Theon ordered softly, leaning their foreheads together. “It’s fine. It’s part of you, I get it. I really do. It’s actually kind of cute when I’m not worrying about how much you’re freaking yourself out!”

Robb snickered slightly at that and Theon was gratified to feel him relax slightly.

“I…I don’t know when I got like this,” Robb admitted. “I guess after they died but…sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, fuck, I’m the one putting you in danger from a stalker, why aren’t I apologizing?” Theon asked.

“Theon, listen to me,” Robb said. “We…I think we can do something about that. Every time he does something or shows up where he shouldn’t, write it down. Have someone else witness it, like Dagmer or me or Tyrion. Hell, Loras if you have to. We get enough and we’ll take it to the police.”

“I…I haven’t the best history with cops.” He recalled kicking one who’d performed a drug raid on the family house when he was twelve…he’d gotten one hell of a thump on the head for it.

“I do. I’m Ned Stark’s boy, remember?” Robb said. “We’ll fix it. Okay? I won’t feel good if we don’t do something, please?”

“That’s low Stark,” Theon scolded at his boyfriend’s use of puppy eyes and manipulation. “…Fine. If we think we have enough.”

Robb beamed and kissed him. Theon flipped him over, intent on introducing the anxious Stark the wonderfully soothing properties of morning sex.

 

BRIENNE

“So…so I’m right in thinking we didn’t do anything, right?” Jaime asked.

“Lannister, I was in my bed. You were face down on the couch. What do you think?” Brienne asked, shaking her head. Hell, he was barely even lifting his head from the couch even now.

“Incidentally you need to take a lint brush to those cushions. I think I’ve got dust on my tongue,” Jaime muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Your tongue was near my cushions? Forget a lint brush, I’m sending them all through the wash!” Brienne said. “You eat waffles?”

“What?” Jaime asked.

“Waffles. Do you eat them?”

“Sure. Why?”

“I’m making waffles.”

“Well, yes, but…why?”

Brienne wondered how her clever boss had a brother this thick, “Because I’m hungry?”

“But you’re making them for me too.”

“…I assumed you would be hungry,” she replied.

He frowned and she could see the gears slowly turning in his head, as if trying to figure out if he was or if all the coffee he’d had last night was still filling him up.

“…Waffles sound good,” he yawned, getting up from the couch.

She eyes his hair, “Now I know I’ll need to wash them. Looks like you lost some of your hair gel, too.”

“What?” Jaime asked, reaching up and touching the bits that stuck up. “Ah, damn it.”

She shook her head as the waffle maker beeped and she pulled the first one out. “There’s juice and such in the fridge.”

“Oh, good,” Lannister muttered. “Is it possible to have a caffeine hangover? I think I have a caffeine hangover…”

“There’s also water,” she said.

“Oh, good,” he said.

 

TYRION

He woke up on his office’s couch.

Odd.

Oh, there was a note.

_Boss, you passed out. Too much coffee, not enough anything else? Anyway, brought you here. Your brother and Brienne had already turned in for the night. When Brienne comes by, tell her I think we’ll need industrial cleaner for the elevator and will go get some in the morning. Sandor_

Grand.

He hated college parties.

Also he needed painkillers for the crick in his neck from the couch.

Wait…if he hadn’t gone back to his apartment…where was Jaime? Had he gone home since Tyrion wasn’t there to let him in?

Oh well, he’d turn up eventually…

 

THEON

Sansa Stark was an amazing pancake queen. It was a fact.

“Thanks, I’m still starving!” Robb said as she passed him a second plate. Theon fought the urge to shake his head—he could barely eat _half_ that!

“You’re always starving. Between you and Rickon I’m shocked we spend less than a hundred fifty a week on groceries,” Jon chuckled.

Rickon stuck his tongue out, semi-chewed breakfast and all.

Theon had missed this, missed breakfast with the Starks when he was younger, when staying over with Robb was his only taste of what normal kids were supposed to get.

“So work last night really wore you, out huh?” Sansa asked as she went back to cleaning up.

“Oh yeah. Newly twenty-ones, never know what they want to drink,” he said. “So when you’re legal and come to the bar, Sansa, I expect you to already know what sort of drinks you like! Same goes for the rest of you under-agers!”

“What, you have to remix stuff?” Jon asked.

“Or give them free drinks since they ordered wrong but insisted I heard wrong instead,” Theon huffed. “Still, the tips more than cover any lost wages, if Dagmer actually did that. Which…I doubt. We made a killing even with the lost drinks.”

“Want to celebrate the season starting off?” Robb asked. “Maybe a movie marathon in your room? Just you and me?”

Hell yes. “Sounds good. Just let me get a nap in around three, I’ve got the same shift tonight.”

“I’ll take one too—I’ll drive you in and back so we don’t have bus problems,” Robb said brightly.

Great. Make it more obvious to the crazy stalker…but…it made him feel safe. Safe and warm.

“That sounds good,” he told Robb. “Bran, you going to finish that bacon?”

 

BRIENNE

“This is really good,” Jaime said, helping himself. “Make waffles often?”

“No. I usually have oatmeal.”

“Yeah, guess it’s better for you. I have cereal or yogurt most mornings. Usually in a hurry,” he said.

“Where do you live, anyways? House, apartment?”

“Small house, outskirts of town,” Jaime said. “Nice and private.”

“No wonder you have to rush to get to work in the mornings.”

“Tell me about it. And head of PR for a corporation…yeah, you don’t even want to know how early you have to get there to get ahold of yesterday’s scandals before too many people are talking about them.”

“Scandals? Are you sure you should be telling me?” Brienne asked.

“Tarth, most of the nation considers my dad a slightly more benign, not-cyborg version of Darth Vader. Except a CEO instead of a warlord, though I’m sure he’d love to actually be a warlord,” Jaime said. “What could I tell you to top that?”

“That he actually is a cyborg?” she asked.

“There is that,” Jaime snickered. “If anyone asks though, he’s really not.”

“Why would anyone ask me?”

“Because I haven’t given up,” he said, winking.

All right. Might as well put an end to this. Before the boss’ brother did something really stupid in trying to get her to agree to a date.

“You know, I never do get a straight answer out of you as to why you continually ask me out.”

“I told you. I found that ass-kicking very attractive-”

“Seriously, Lannister. I’m giving you a chance to get this right.”

Jaime frowned at her, looked at the ceiling, and then sipped his juice. “You don’t…take bullshit. From me. Don’t let me get away with it.”

“And you like that?”

“Tarth, do you have any idea how annoying it is to have people think falling all over you is the way to a date? _Really_ annoying,” Jaime said. “Also, it’s true about when you kicked my ass. I find athleticism attractive.”

She was going to regret this, but… “One date. One _low-fuss_ date. We’ll see from there?”

He looked like she’d offered him something more amazing than a date. “Sure! When are you free?”

“Schedule changes weekly, so call a few days ahead of time.”

“Right! I…I mean I will. Good. Great.”

All right, he was kind of cute when she thought about it.

 

TYRION

“Tyrion, guess what?”

“I’ll never believe where you slept?” Tyrion asked. Unless Jaime had broken into his apartment he really had no idea…

“Well, yes, because you’d never believe Brienne would lend me her couch, but other than that!” Jaime said, grinning widely.

“You’re right, I don’t believe it.”

“I’m going on a date with her!”

“…I also don’t believe that. Bang your head recently?” Tyrion asked.

“ _Ha ha_ ,” Jaime said. “But I’m serious here!”

“So am I. I don’t believe a word you’re saying,” Tyrion replied.

“You’re impossible,” Jaime huffed. “I finally have a chance with her and you’re mocking me.”

“It’s what I do.”

“I noticed,” Jaime said. “Seriously, though, no congrats? No advice?”

“What sort of advice beyond telling you not to screw it up do you seek?” Tyrion asked, smirking.

“Ass,” Jaime said.

“Very well. Congratulations for asking out Brienne. What are you going to tell our dear sister if some reporter catches you and spills the beans?”

Tyrion shook his head as Jaime’s eyes went wide and he sat down. “Oh damn.”

“Yes.”

“She’s always been kind of possessive, hasn’t she?”

“She threatened the girl you took to prom with being a social outcast unless she stopped speaking to you. And the the girl you took to homecoming-”

“I know, I know,” Jaime muttered. “I mean, it’s not like Cersei can threaten her job, at least.”

“Oh, I’d love to see her try,” Tyrion agreed. “Word of advice? Spare her the family Thanksgiving, at least this year.”

“Of course, I’m not evil,” Jaime said. “So, you got your eye on anyone, we could maybe double date sometime?”

“I have my eye on several someones.”

“You’re still doing that, huh? Seriously, Tyrion, escorts are not exactly the most acceptable vice these days…”

“No, that’s alcoholism, which I already have. Well, maybe have. The doctors don’t agree with each other,” Tyrion said. “It’s fun to watch them look at each other’s notes and scowl. And besides, they’re not escorts…not _all_ escorts.”

“Nice save,” Jaime said.

“I thought so too. Now, tonight should be quieter, but it will by no means be quiet, so let’s look at what we learned from last night…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alert, alert! We finally have JxB progress! Man your stations! So, yeah, she's giving him a chance. He should manage. Oh course this means Tyrion now gets to tease BOTH of them so of course he's all for it. 
> 
> And now we have Robb's plan of dealing with Ramsay, which Theon and Dagmer did not think of earlier due to not really trusting police. And a little more info on Robb's panic attacks.
> 
> Next time we skip ahead to the week of Halloween!


	14. Halloween Hijinks

“I’ve got to hear the story behind this one,” Tyrion said, grinning.

“Rickon’s had sugar and I am _so sorry_ ,” Sansa said as she and Sandor tried to untangle the littlest Stark from what had previously been the fake cobweb decorations. “Precut Halloween sugar cookies, you know?”

“Stop squirming!” Sandor told the kid firmly. This naturally had the opposite effect. “What, did he steal a whole sheet?”

“Two. He’s going to be sick tonight, I just know it,” she sighed.

“Wow,” Tyrion said because frankly he’s got nothing else he can say outside of wondering where the kid put it all, but well, he knew the answer was a surprisingly elastic stomach. “And don’t worry about the cobwebs, they’re easily put back up. Stick to the rougher stucco like you wouldn’t believe.”

“No, no, turn _around_ ,” Sandor huffed, still having trouble with the child.

“I shudder to think what he’ll be like on Halloween night. You know, given all the candy…” Tyrion noted.

“You guys won’t have to worry and neither will I. Robb and Theon are taking him, Arya, Bran, and Jojen an hour out to our uncle’s neighborhood to trick-or-treat,” Sansa said.

Rickon stopped squirming, “I’m tired!”

“Well don’t pass out until you’re upstairs again,” Sandor said as he finally yanked the last of the cottony wraps off of him. “Beds are better than floors, don’t you think?”

“Thank you, Sandor, and I am so, so sorry,” Sansa said.

“Just don’t let him puke in the elevator and I’ll call it even,” Sandor said. “It’s Brienne’s afternoon off and I don’t want to have to clean that up.”

“Oh, no, this has happened before. He won’t be sick until dinnertime. And then he won’t want dinner. And then he’ll wake me up at midnight for food,” Sansa said.

“So, still haven’t learned, then?” Tyrion asked Rickon.

“They’re _cookies_ ,” the little boy said emphatically.

“Look, I can leave him with Jon if you need me to help you put those back up,” Sansa said.

“It’s fine. I’m tall,” Sandor said. “Don’t worry about it.”

As Sansa herded her brother into the elevator Tyrion tapped his chin, “You know sometimes I’m not sure how the older three Starks manage to stay sane.”

“Jon mopes, Sansa socializes like mad, and I’m pretty sure Theon’s the one propping Robb up,” Sandor said.

“… _Theon_ is propping someone up,” Tyrion asked.

“I know, I’m scared too,” Sandor sighed as he went to put the cobweb back up.

.o.o.o.

“You know, candy is the greatest thing on this earth,” Brienne said, grinning as they put various sweets in the pot. “We should bet with it more often.”

“You’re just mad you usually get coupons you don’t end up using because you eat home so much,” Sandor replied.

“Because I can cook,” Brienne said.

“So can I!” Sandor protested.

“Macaroni from a box is not cooking.”

“Look, this argument is wonderful and all, but we were debating whether last year’s exchange rate stands,” Tyrion said. “Particularly given this year’s apparent dearth of Twix.”

“You’re the only one who eats Twix,” Sandor said.

“Exactly, I think we should just trade for them now and remove them from the game,” Tyrion said. “Cut out the middleman.”

“Oh, no no no no _no_ ,” Sandor said smirking. “See these?” He held up a back full of Twix. “These are my trump card this year.”

“You sneaky jackass,” Tyrion said, stunned.

“I came prepared! Soon as I saw Twix were selling out!” Sandor declared. “Haha! Let’s see you stay out of the pot now, boss!”

“I hate you so much right now…” Tyrion groaned.

.o.o.o.

“Tyrion!” Drogo said loudly as he entered the lobby. “May we post our flyers here?”

“Flyers for?” Tyrion asked, heading up his stepstool to see over the front desk.

“A haunted house at his gym,” Daenerys said. “He’s indulging me since…well…after last year my family really shouldn’t hold the Halloween parties at the fireworks factory anymore…”

“Ah, yes, the neon pink mushroom cloud…what caused that?” Tyrion asked.

“Her brothers, alcohol, and chemicals,” Drogo said, shaking his head. “It was all very…spontaneous.”

“I expect such things from Viserys, but Rhaegar’s far older than him and should have known better,” Daenerys fumed.

So said the woman whose father thought it was harmless to put firecrackers under his business partners’ seats at a conference. No wonder the company was doing so poorly…

He looked over the flyer, “Rated PG-13?”

“We couldn’t get Missendi and Grey to ditch the fake blood,” Daenerys said. “And…well, Barristan rigs some pretty good jump-scares…”

“And I will pretend to chase people with an axe,” Drogo added.

“Exactly,” Daenerys said. “You know, might as well not terrify a five year old or something.”

“Good plan,” Tyrion agreed.

.o.o.o.

“Well, don’t you all look terrifying,” Tyrion said. He glanced at Theon and Robb “Almost all anyway.”

“Ha _ha_ ,” Robb said, herding Rickon the vampire, Bran the mad scientist, Jojen the wizard, Arya the ninja, and their assorted dogs towards the doors.

“Don’t you know, Tyrion? He and I are dressed as the most _terrifying_ thing imaginable!” Theon said as Grey Wind towed him after the Starks. “A gay couple that shows affection in public!”

“Good luck with that!” Tyrion called after them.

“…Th-that actually sounds like it c-could be fun to watch,” Pod admitted.

“Oh, undoubtedly. I hope one of Robb’s siblings brought their phone. You know, pictures of the bigots acting disgusted,” Tyrion said. “I’m just glad no one seems to be throwing parties here.”

“No, most of them are in downtown,” Margaery said as she and Sansa stepped out of the elevator dressed like princesses. “I’m taking Sansa to my grandmother’s café. They’re having a fantasy night!”

“Is she an awesome friend or what?” Sansa asked. “Wish us luck!”

“Good luck, and you both look lovely,” Tyrion said.

“G-good luck,” Pod added.

“…Either Sansa can’t take a hint or this is the night Margaery goes all-in,” Tyrion said once they were gone.

“Want pictures of that too?” Pod asked.

“Sure why not?” Tyrion shrugged. “I’m friends with Margaery on Facebook, after all… _Brienne_?”

“Your brother’s idea,” she said, adjusting the cape on what appear to be a knight costume. “Go to a public to a party with me without causing a stir by picking a masquerade. Have to say it makes sense…”

“Still keeping it under wraps?” Tyrion asked.

“Like I want any spotlight on me at all,” she replied. “Still, it looked fun. They’re having masked swordfights.”

“Play nice,” Tyrion laughed as she headed for the garage. “Honestly, I think you, Gendry, and I are the only ones without plans, Pod.”

“I-I have a p-plan,” Pod said. “Once Gendry gets d-d-down here I’m going to _bed_.”

.o.o.o.

Tyrion grinned at his computer. Arya had not been shy of posting all the pictures of Theon and Robb freaking people out by kissing each other. One blonde mother who looked like Cersei with less-fabulous cheekbones looked particularly scandalized.

There were also pictures of their uncle and his house. And the dogs on his patio furniture.

Not for the first time did Tyiron wonder why, if they had relatives, did they not stay with them? He supposed it was a bit far out for the college-going ones to trek nearly every day and the younger ones wouldn’t want to split from their siblings after the tragedy…

However, there was nothing from Margaery. And while the girl wasn’t one to go overboard with the details, she usually posted _some_.

Jaime had posted a picture of some idiot getting dragged off by security at the masquerade, asking for a caption contest.

Tyrion spent a few minutes coming up with the best one-liner he could think of before finally resigning himself to checking if any late-night complaints had been posted at the front desk.

After dressing, getting breakfast, and snagging one of his well-won Twix to eat on the way, he headed down to the lobby.

Thankfully the only complaint was a call about a slightly leaky faucet Brienne could look at when she got back. It looked like Gendry had resolved everything that had happened before midnight.

The elevator dinging drew his attention and his eyes widened as a morose Margaery walked out, “Is something wrong?”

Margaery bit her lip before walking quickly over to the desk. “She had a boyfriend. Already.”

“Oh dear. So after you-”

“Oh, I didn’t get a chance to say anything, the guy texted her around six to ask her to a six-thirty party. Because, you know, that makes all the sense in the world,” Margaery sighed. “And then she was really upset about telling him no to where I actually asked if I should drive her her there…”

“Oh dear,” Tyrion said.

“Anyway she decided to just stay where we were but, well, killed the whole mood,” she sighed. “Apparently she doesn’t bring him up much since it gets Robb and Jon on edge.”

“I’m very sorry to hear, that. I know you like her,” Tyrion said.

“…How bad a person am I if I try to track him down and mess with him?”

“Bad.”

“All right then,” she sighed.

“Maybe you should talk with Renly. He does tend to act like a love doctor now and then,” Tyrion said.

“Oh, I will. Later. I think I’d rather lick my wounds for now,” she sighed. “Just…tell Brienne, okay? I told her about what I had planned and…I don’t want to go over it more than once.”

Well that was…different. He was so used to her seeming like she was in control of everything. “If that’s what you’d prefer.”

“…You really don’t know, right?” Margaery asked. “I mean, you’d tell me?”

“I’d tell you if I knew, but no more. Everyone has a right to some privacy. But now that I think about it she does sometimes go out alone, so that might have something to do with it,” Tyrion said. “Do not follow her. It’s beneath you.”

“I’d never,” Margaery said. “Still…”

“It’s hard. Believe me, I know.”

As soon as he’d said it he knew he’d made a mistake. Sure enough she turned back to him, “What do you mean?”

“Everyone has a right to some privacy,” he told her firmly. “Weren’t you going somewhere?”

She held his gaze, clearly interested, before turning away again. “I was. Bye Tyrion.”

Great. She was never going to let this go now…

Well, it couldn’t get more complicated, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion's tempting fate there...big time, since the Thanksgiving storyline is nothing but complicated!  
> As for Maragery...why make it easy for the cunning Miss Tyrell? And who Sansa's seeing...well. That's for later. As if you can't guess.  
> So, yeah, Robb's now introducing Theon to relatives. I'm sure niether has noticed the significance of that. And you all finally got Dany with some Targaryen hijinks referenced!  
> Rickon's scene is dedicated to my love of precut Halloween sugar cookies.   
> Next time we have Tyrion's take on Thanksgiving...which is only half the story.


	15. Thanksgiving 1: Starks

“So you’re not inflicting it on Brienne?” Tyrion asked.

“I’ll have you know I’m _not_ a terrible boyfriend who would put his girlfriend near his family and in-laws while she’s still getting used to just me,” Jaime said.

“…What, you think Cersei would get a cook to give her food poisoning?”

“Maybe,” Jaime agreed. “Besides, I’m going to hers first. Her family eats it at lunch so her father can get a nap in before the football game is on. God bless tryptophan and all that.”

“And you think Robert or Father will let you get away without eating much?”

“Please, with all the stuff both Robert and Cersei insist on serving there will be tons of leftovers either way,” Jaime said. “I may break it to them before Christmas.”

“Knowing our family I’m betting you mean _next_ Christmas,” Tyrion said.

“Yeah, good plan,” Jaime conceded.

.o.o.o.

“So what are you doing on Thursday?” Theon asked as Robb piled their groceries onto a borrowed dolly to take into the elevator.

“Nothing, really. Looks like you finally found someone to celebrate with, though,” Tyrion replied.

“Yeah, they kind of do the whole ‘family, friends, significant others—hell let’s bring everybody!’ thing,” Theon said.

“What do you mean nothing?” Robb asked, looking concerned.

“I mean nothing. I take it as a personal day. Might catch up on some shows I’ve been recording,” Tyrion said.

Oh, wait. What had Theon just said? _Oh_. Robb was a family person. Tyrion’s plans were probably the antithesis of all he understood.

“Really?” Robb asked. Yes, that was clearly an expression of total incomprehension. “Just…you don’t do it at all?”

“Tact, Stark. Use it,” Theon hissed. “Sorry, Tyrion.”

“It’s fine.” Robb clearly didn’t mean anything by it intentionally and Tyrion was sure things would work out once his brain finally caught up the the concept they were discussing.

Which seemed to be happening right about now “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that how it came out…”

“As I said, it’s fine,” Tyrion said, keeping his voice warm in a hope of staving off any panic Stark might drive himself too. How the boy could wind himself up like he did Tyrion would never know.

“Just sounds lonely is all—ow!”

“Robb!” Theon groaned, having smacked him upside the head. Excellent technique. Tyrion assumed he’d learnt it from all the times Tyrion had inflicted the same on him.

“I’m trying to ask something here!” Robb said quickly. “No offense meant! At all!”

Theon rolled his eyes, “Tyrion, I’m sorry my boyfriend’s not running on all cylinders right now.”

“Look, what I’m saying is—stop elbowing me!” Robb huffed, seizing Theon’s arm and twisting it behind his back.

“What are you asking, Stark?” Tyrion asked, snickering.

“Um, we’ll have room. If you’d like to come,” Robb offered.

“Really?” Tyrion asked, surprised. That was where the redhead had been going?

“Least we can do. You’ve been a good landlord,” Robb said. “And we’re going to be short one anyway.”

“Short one?” Tyrion asked.

“Sansa’s going to her boyfriend’s house,” Robb replied and his voice seemed to have suddenly gone very bitter indeed. “To _their_ dinner.”

“ _Robb_ ,” Theon said firmly, squeezing his side with his free hand.

“I know, I know,” Robb sighed, letting his boyfriend go. “Also we’re having Gendry and his mom, she’s bringing pie. So really, you’re not imposing.”

“Well, pie does sound good,” Tyrion conceded. “I think I shall. Thank you for the offer, Stark, Greyjoy.”

“You’re welcome,” Robb said.

“Bring some of the good wine,” Theon said eagerly. Because of course he cared about that.

“Theon!” Robb groaned.

“What? You’ve _never_ had good wine, Robb Stark, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take every opportunity to get you some!” An excellent point.

“Listen to Theon, Stark,” Tyrion said. “While all that official wine-tasting stuff may or may not be total hogwash, good wine is always better than that dollar store shit I see you and Jon bringing in.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Robb said, rubbing his temples. “Tyrion, you can bring the wine. All right, come on you.”

He seized Theon around the waist with one hand and the dolly with the other, dragging both into the elevator as Theon laughed.

Well, this should be interesting. Better than sitting home alone at any rate.

.o.o.o.

He arrived at apartment 7B on Thanksgiving day at 4 p.m. Arya answered the door.

“That’s a lot of wine,” she observed.

“It’s four bottles. I didn’t know what the adults would like,” Tyrion replied.

“Adults,” Arya snorted. “Because Robb, Jon, and Theon are _so_ adults.”

“What, only my mom and Ygritte count?” Gendry asked, coming up behind her.

“Your mom’s an adult and Ygritte’s cool enough, I guess,” Arya replied. “And Tyrion. I mean it’s his wine.”

“Nice to see you, Mr. Lannister,” Gendry added.

“You as well, Gendry,” Tyrion replied, following them in. The dogs were all over the floor, Rickon and Bran were on the couch with a sulking Jon, and an equally-sulking Theon occupied an armchair. “What’s with them?”

“Robb and Ygritte kicked them out of the kitchen,” Bran said. “And called them hopeless.”

“It was Theon’s fault,” Jon said.

“Jon, if you were not Robb’s brother and gay and dating Robb, tell me you’d be able to resist kissing him when he’s wearing an apron that explicitly implores you to do so,” Theon hissed.

“Not when he’s busy!” Jon said. “And not when it gets someone else in trouble too!”

Tyrion glanced at Arya.

She smirked, “Robb had a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, Theon went to kiss the cook, Jon complained loudly, so Ygritte and Robb kicked them both out so they could focus on cooking.”

“Ah. So they’re both idiots,” Tyrion said, smirking slightly when the boys shot him dirty looks.

“What else is new?” Arya asked, sitting between Rickon and the arm of the couch.

Tyrion chuckled as he pulled himself up onto a loveseat with the aid of a footstool. Theon stole said stool as soon as he was done with it, and slunk further down into the chair.

“Least the game should be good,” Bran offered.

Oh right, football game. Jaime’s excuse to go to Brienne’s early…

“No offense to your uncle, but the Maine team’s going to crush them,” Theon said.

“Just because your family’s from Maine doesn’t make their team better,” Jon said.

“Huh? No, no, but they’re good at crushing the kind of defense Brynden Tully tends to have the team use,” Theon said. “Dagmer’s been giving lectures on I all week and they make pretty good sense.”

“So they might not do so well defensively, Uncle Brynden’s great at coaching offense!” Jon argued.

“Since when do you know football, Jon Snow?” came mockingly from the kitchen.

“Snow?” Tyrion and Theon asked at the same time.

“Nickname. I’m no explaining it,” Jon muttered darkly. “And I do so know football, Ygritte!”

“No he doesn’t! Carry on!” Theon yelled.

“Shut up!” Jon snapped.

Both of them were pelted with pillows from the younger three Starks while Gendry joined Tyrion on the loveseat.

“Is this normal?” Tyrion asked.

“From what I get from Arya, yeah,” Gendry said. “Jon and Theon fight, when they go overboard either Robb and Ygritte threaten them or these three go the pillow fight route.”

“You can join in next time. There’s some good ones on the loveseat,” Bran said as Theon and Jon angrily set the pillows they’d been pelted with aside.

“I think you have it well in hand,” Tyrion laughed.

“What’s going on in here?” Robb demanded, storming in and revealing that he was indeed wearing a “kiss the cook” apron.

Tyrion couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed so hard.

.o.o.o.

The Stark’s dining room table had been elongated by a card table and what looked like a desk with a tablecloth on it. As if to confirm that, three of the chairs were actually rolling desk chairs.

Theon quickly sat down next to Robb and kissed him, “Nice spread, babe.”

“No double entendres at the table!” Jon complained.

Theon looked surprised. “Oh. …would you believe I didn’t mean that like it came out?”

“No,” Jon said.

“Ease up, Jon, even Theon can have a slip of the tongue,” Ygritte teased. “You certainly do.”

“Oh, I can’t comment but she can?” Theon muttered.

“Oh my _god_ , stop being cute!” Arya complained.

“They’re young and in love,” Sarah Waters said. “You won’t win that one, Arya.”

“Watch me,” the Stark girl said with resolve. If Tyrion had been one of the lovebirds, he’d have been a bit nervous at that.

Robb seemed to laugh it off, “Okay, so the turkey’s been divided already, you’ve got your light meat, your dark met, your wings and legs-”

“Unless that was a mutant turkey that’s too many legs,” Bran noted.

“Because everyone always fights when there’s just the two,” Jon said. “So we made it easier.”

“…Dibs on a wing!” Theon and Rickon both said and Ygritte groaned before passing them over.

“Lovely to see you again, Sarah,” Tyrion said. “We seem to keep missing each other.”

“Well, hairdressing with a job on the side does mean a lot of time not at home,” she replied. “Still, the salon’s doing better, so I might be able to drop the other job.”

“That’s be great,” Gendry said. “I mean, I’m already working twenty hours a week anyway. That’s got to help, right?”

“Thank you for letting him do his homework when it’s slow,” Sarah added.

“No trouble. Podrick does the same,” Tyrion said.

“Hey, when I’m in high school and Podrick’s in another job can I work the desk?” Arya asked. “Looks fun.”

“Fun?” Tyrion asked.

“Yeah, I think she’s crazy. She’s watched some of my shifts,” Gendry said. “Apparently it looks good to her.”

“Arya, you are a strange child,” Tyrion decided. She puffed out her chest in pride, proving him entirely correct.

Meanwhile, Jon and Theon had quickly devolved back into their football bickering.

Theon was midway through yet another deconstruction of Brynden Tully’s defensive plays—and good lord Tyrion had not known you could talk about that kind of thing for this long—when Ygritte flicked the cork she’d just pulled from a wine bottle in his face, flicked Jon’s ear, and snapped, “Just make a bet on it if it’s so important to you! No one else cares!”

“…I care,” Rickon offered shyly.

“You don’t count, you’re not brainless,” Ygritte replied, to Jon and Theon’s indignation.

“Work out terms in your heads first, let the rest of us try and enjoy the meal,” Tyrion added quickly when Theon went to open his mouth.

That shut them up.

The topics managed to be pleasant—school, jobs, wanting to tar and feather certain politicians and pundits, okay maybe it was just Tyrion and Ygritte who found that pleasant, but it counted.

“And then of course I’m running between classes, desperate for a snack, and they’ve out a credit card scanner on the vending machine!” Gendry groaned. “I mean, _seriously_?”

“What, can it not take cash?” Arya asked.

“Bills. No coins,” Gendry groaned. “Guess who only had quarters?”

“When he came by the salon he was starving,” Sarah agreed. “I think it’s silly. Not many kids in this school district have credit cards, for one. And half that do really shouldn’t use them as much as they do.”

“I’ve got it!” Theon said, snapping his fingers. He pointed at Jon. “Loser bleaches streaks in their hair!”

“…Is this just because Gendry’s mom said the word ‘salon’?” Robb groaned as Jon seemed to consider it.

“I wouldn’t recommend a straight bleaching for either of you anyway,” Sarah said. “Neither of you has the complexion for it—no stylist worth their salt should agree to it. Theon would be better with a more golden dye and Jon would need a cooler yellow than bleach and why are you both looking at me like that?”

“They’re going to ask you to do it. Say yes,” Arya implored.

“Oh no,” Robb muttered.

“I’ll need a camera for when it happens,” Ygritte said. “Jon Snow, I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“I’m getting into getting Theon to mess up his precious hair, since Brynden’s team will win,” Jon said, holding his hand out.

Theon took it.

This could not end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving is going to be a three-parter! Can't you just feel the continuity? Next time Renly holds the POV ball as we go to the Lannister-Baratheon family Thanksgiving!  
> And Gendry's mom! Because she had to show up eventually! Now, will it be Jon or Theon who loses...either way, their significant other will probably laugh at them over it.


	16. Thanksgiving 2: Baratheon/Lannister Style

“Renly, stop.”

“It’s not my fault you just have this one curl that-”

“Renly, it’s fine!”

Renly finally forced the unruly lock behind Loras’ ear. “Now it’s fine.”

“You’re obsessing way too early in the evening,” Loras warned.

“I’ll be okay.” It wasn’t like apparently his oldest brother hadn’t known he was gay and Tywin Lannister was famously conservative and Cersei was a bitch who hated anything that might threaten her family’s political power and okay _fine_ he was over-obsessing.

“Uncle Renly!”

“Hey kids!” he said, smiling as Tommen and Mrycella rushed over to hug him. “Tommen, when did you start getting tall?”

“I’m taller than Joffrey was at my age,” the little boy whispered in a conspiratorial way.

“I can confirm that,” Renly whispered back. “Oh, and Tyrion says hi, and don’t worry, he won’t be lonely, some of the tenants roped him into their dinner.”

Mrycella grinned and clasped her hands together, “Oh good, I was worried!”

“Worried about what?”

Loras smirked at Cersei, “That I’d wear this really loud shirt Renly won’t stop sending them complaint texts about.”

All right, one, that shirt was a travesty even if Loras could pull it off, and two, of course he talked fashion with Myrcella! It was what they had in common!

“Lovely to see you Cersei,” Renly said. “How have you been?”

“Just fine.”

Fine was a word both their families used a lot. He was proof of it. It usually meant not fine. “Glad to hear it! Loras and I have been doing _great_.”

Her smile became more rigid. Good, he was winning.

“Well, try not to be too…loud,” Cersei said. Renly would bet money she’d meant something much worse. “Joffrey brought his little dove of a girlfriend and I don’t want you to scare her off.”

Loras and Renly shared a look. Cersei was the type to want to scare off her children’s dates, so Renly was personally going with the idea that she wanted to do it herself.

Renly was briefly distracted by the decorations—dear god he hoped someone did something with the fake fruit in all those cornucopias, or at least didn’t throw it all out—when Cersei said, “Oh, there she is. Sansa, dear!”

Wait. Wait wait _wait_. “Sansa?” Renly asked, stunned. Loras’ jaw slipped for a moment and he loudly snapped it shut the next.

“Renly. Nice to see you,” she said.

Cersei looked between them suspiciously but seemed to shrug it off. How…unlike her.

Renly tried to ignore the alarm bells. This was supposed to be a fun day. He simply turned to Sansa and smiled as Cersei walked off to talk with a just-arrived Stannis—they’d rescue him later. Shireen wasn’t here, so no children were suffering.

“Oh my _god_ Sansa!” Renly said. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Hell, she didn’t even tell us she was dating your nephew,” Loras said.

“Oh don’t call Joff that, you’re making me feel old,” Renly said. It did, too, having a nephew in high school was the pits. “But really, Sansa, I had no idea-”

“I don’t really advertise who I date,” she admitted. “I have older brothers.”

“I’ll assume it’s different for girls,” Renly said. “Both of mine pushed me to date.”

Hell, Robert had dragged him to frat parties specifically in an effort to get him laid…he was an idiot but he could be a sweet idiot now and then…

“As the father of a daughter I understand,” Stannis said, appearing on Renly’s left. Oh, he’d saved himself, then. “And frankly Renly if you hadn’t been with him for a _long_ time before I met Loras I probably would have been obligated to at least give him a shovel talk.”

“…What’s a top prosecutor’s shovel talk sound like?” Loras asked. Damn his curiosity…even if it was cute.

“Explanations of how I could either have you put away for life for the slightest misstep or killed with no evidence left behind,” Stannis said. “Only if you deserved it, of course.”

“Of course,” Loras said weakly, though Renly could feel him squeeze his hand tightly. He’d asked, so Renly didn’t feel too sorry for him.

“You’re a father?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, my Shireen’s quite bright,” Stannis said, pulling out his wallet and showing a picture. “Two grades ahead of her peers.”

Oh, that was a good one. Or her scars were getting better, one or the other.

“That’s wonderful!” Sansa said.

“Sansa, come here!” Joffrey yelled across the room.

“Such _manners_ ,” Renly muttered as Sansa rushed over. “Think he lacks them because of our dear brother or his mother?”

“Both,” Stannis said.

“Well how have things been with you, anyway? Looks like you haven’t been sleeping, still working full hours _and_ parenting full hours too?”

“Children require as much attention as they can be given,” Stannis said. “Though Davos’ boys have been filling in when I can’t…they’re pretty good babysitters, really.”

“That’s good.” Stannis had been swamped ever since his wife died and Renly had been worried about him maybe burning himself out for years…

“You look worried,” Stannis said. “Afraid of how to keep this from the other Starks? Assuming they don’t already know?”

“Please, Loras will probably slip up around his sister in a day,” Renly said.

“Hey!”

Renly kissed him, “Sweetie, you’re no idiot, but let’s face it your sister is a master of finding information she wants.”

“Yeah, okay,” Loras muttered.

“Why would this be information she’d want?” Stannis asked.

“Teenage—or just post teenage in Margaery’s case—love triangle. Do not try,” Loras muttered.

“I won’t,” Stannis agreed. “So, Renly, how’s business?”

“Well, there’s still rich idiots who invent their own problems, so great!” Renly said.

“Wonderful. See if you can steer some away from ‘accidental’ white collar crime if it comes up,” Stannis said. “I think some of the investigators are ready to shoot themselves over it.”

“That bad? Wait… _accidental_?” Renly asked.

“Gee, officer, I didn’t know taking money from my _own_ business and telling no one I did it was illegal!” Stannis said in a falsetto. “What? Not paying that one tax is _also_ illegal?”

“Oh wow. No, no, haven’t had those idiots. Probably because I don’t claim to be an accountant,” Renly said.

“He gets the ones who invent ailments. You know, ‘am I too stressed because I’m so pretty?’ and ‘people don’t like it when I throw money around to get what I want and that makes me feel sad, how can I throw more money around to make it stop?’” Loras said.

“Oh. That sounds…depressing,” Stannis said.

“I actually have convinced myself it’s hilarious,” Renly said. “That helps.”

“That does sound like you,” Stannis said. “Odd, Jaime doesn’t seem to be here yet…”

“He’ll only get here right before dinner. Another engagement,” Loras said.

“…Who is the woman and will I have to get a retaining order against Cersei for her?”

“You too, huh? And no,” Renly said. “She can beat up Loras.”

“I like her already,” Stannis said.

.o.o.o.

Dinner was a bore. A bore with too much food, most of it not even the traditional stuff. For example: no cranberries. Renly wished this was a restaurant so he could lodge a formal complaint.

Joff and Sansa wasn’t as entertaining as he’d hoped they’d be. She was just all gooey-eyed over him and he was…just sort of soaking it in, really. Nothing interesting.

Luckily, his sister in law provided.

“So, Renly,” Cersei simpered over her spanakopita. “How do you know Sansa?”

Renly knew better than to answer. Really, he did. He knew it would only be trouble, especially for Sansa who was purely innocent in this beyond bad boyfriend choosing skills and certainly did not deserve the reactions that would surely result if he answered and that Cersei had clearly saved the question for just this time just to make it hurt.

He knew better, truly.

But he _really_ wanted to see the look on Cersei’s face. “Oh, you didn’t know? She lives in our building.”

He wasn’t disappointed. Cersei appeared apoplectic.

And, oh, even Robert looked shocked yet interested. Some best friend of Ned Stark’s he was, not even knowing where the man’s kids had ended up.

“You live _where_?” Cersei seethed.

Stannis gave him a sharp kick under the table as Sansa sunk in her seat.

“In the same building as us,” Loras reiterated challengingly.

“Joffrey, did you know this?” Cersei demanded.

“Why would I know exactly where she lives?” Joffrey asked petulantly. “She has a car, you know.”

A loud _chink_ got everyone’s attention. Tywin, having just smacked his glass with his knife, sighed, “Really? I’m the only one who knew about this as soon as I heard her last name? _Jaime_? Did you know beforehand?”

Oh, right. Jaime probably could have known. Close enough to one sibling to know who her boy was seeing, close enough to the other to know who lived in his building.

Jaime shrugged, “I knew Joffrey was seeing a girl, that was it on that end. And I knew Sansa Stark, who lives in Tyrion’s building, had a boyfriend. I honestly never put it together until I got here tonight.”

And who could blame him? Sweet Sansa with Joff the jackass…

Gods, Margaery was going to be crushed…or scheme to destroy Joffrey. Actually he could get behind that one. Could be fun…and would pay the little punk back for every time Renly had heard him use “gay” as an insult.

Oh yes. This could go places.

“I see,” Cersei said, glaring dead at Sansa.

Oh dear. That…that wasn’t what he’d been going for, really.

“Um…um…” Sansa mumbled, looking to Joffrey for some sort of support. He just raised an eyebrow at her.

Cersei said, “Joffrey, seeing someone who lives in that-”

“I live there too, darling,” Renly replied.

“Who knows what she’s feeding Tyrion?” Cersei demanded.

“And we’re not worried about what the news or I tell him, are we?” Jaime asked dryly as Sansa made a protesting squeak.

“Cersei!” Tywin thundered. “There is nothing wrong with her living arrangements. Or at least nothing to hold against her.”

And Joffrey was digging into his plate, ignoring all of this. Charming.

“Mum-” Tommen tried weakly as Stannis said, “Really, this is ridiculous, Cersei-”

And then Robert started in with, “Cersei, I won’t have you talk to Ned’s daughter like that-” while Cersei turned to snap at Jaime.

Myrcella slowly reached out and touched Sansa’s shoulder, but at that the girl knocked her chair back and fled from the room.

Shit. Robb and Jon Stark were going to murder him. And Theon would take pictures.

Stannis broke the silence that ensued, “Loras, bring your car around. Renly, come with me. We are going to have a talk and then I am going to get Miss Stark.”

Another argument erupted as he left, seemingly between Jaime, Robert, Cersei and Tywin. He hoped Myrcella and Tommen made themselves scarce.

“That was horrid of you,” Stannis said. “And I hope you know it. You are going to send a message to her family right now that you will be bringing her home as soon as possible.”

“Stannis, I-”

“I know what you thought you were doing. Believe me, I know enough about you to figure it out,” Stannis said as they stopped in the hallway. Renly could hear Sansa crying from here. “You wait here and send that message. I’ll go and try to get her out of the bathroom.”

“Hope do you know she’s in a bathroom?”

“Almost all panicked people run to a bathroom when not in their own residence,” Stannis replied.

Renly sighed and pulled out his phone. It took him a while to word the message in a way that he was pretty sure wouldn’t get him murdered, but he managed.

Soon after he sent it, Jaime came down the hallway, shaking his head.

“What do you want?” Renly asked him.

“Huh? Oh, fight’s over. Everyone’s retreated. Anyway, listen. Something’s up,” he said. “I think it’s very unlikely my father only found out Sansa’s last name tonight.”

“So?” Renly asked.

“Father already knew where the Stark kids live,” Jaime said. “He was annoyed months ago about Tyrion renting to them. I supposed he didn’t tell Cersei, given her reaction tonight, but he already knew.”

“So…why allow this drama?” Renly asked.

“I don’t know. But it struck me as odd.”

What was Tywin playing at? He was a notorious schemer, a real shadow king…but why did he care about the children of a man who was dead? Even if he hadn’t liked Ned Stark, why his children?

Did he think they knew something? But then Robb and Jon would never have let Sansa _near_ Joffrey…to be fair he couldn’t see how they let her near him now.

God he did not need conspiracy theories in his life right now, he needed Sansa out of the bathroom so they could take her home and her older brother weren’t forced to kill anyone.

“So...where’s Robert?” he asked so they wouldn’t just be standing in silence.

“Football game.”

Renly tamped down the urge to run off to murder his brother, possibly by beating him to death with the remote. Stannis might not be personally mad at him for it, but he’d arrest him anyway. And not just because Robert was the governor.

Stannis led a shaking Sansa back into the hall, “Renly, say you’re sorry.”

“Wait, _I’m_ —oof!” Renly hissed as Jaime elbowed him. Oh, right, he’d egged Cersei on. “Sansa, I’m sorry. I didn’t think before telling them.”

“I’ll work things out. Cersei’s just not thinking. You and Joffrey will be fine,” Jaime added.

Renly hoped not. Sansa frankly should break up with the twit right now. In fact he should mention Joff’s reaction, or, more imporantly, lack of reaction to her brothers, maybe they’d talk sense into…who was he kidding? He’s never listened to his brother, had he?

Sansa sniffled and rubbed at her eyes, smearing her mascara further.

“I’ll go get the coast clear,” Jaime said, leaving them.

“Come on, we texted that we were at the same place and would be your ride home,” Renly said.

“What did you tell them?” Sansa asked.

“Some of the relatives got into a fight and you got freaked out.”

“Liar.”

“Well, fine, but I only told them Cersei yelled at you so Tyrion would know to ban her from the building,” Renly said. “Took long enough if you ask me.”

“What? No! That’ll make it worse!” Sansa said.

This could get worse? Okay, fine, humor her… “Whatever do you mean?” Oh, good, Loras had the car running. He opened the door to let her in the backseat.

“Th-then she won’t let me see Joffrey!”

How to explain this to a love-stuck person…? “I’ve known Joff since he was a kid. He’s stubborn. He wants to see you, he’ll see you.” There, good deed done.

Loras just looked perplexed, probably over why someone would ever want to see Joffrey.

Oh well. If Renly had his way Sansa wouldn’t be crying long because she’d have ditched the dumbass for someone better.

Loras passed Renly his phone.

Renly’s eyes widened. A text from Robb Stark. An angry text from Robb Stark.

_You will bring Sansa right to the apt. and you will all sit down and tell me what the hell happened so help me god._

Great. Just great.

The phone buzzed as Robb sent another text.

_Also Tyrion wants to know which member of his family to leak something about to the media._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dabbling in black comedy with this one! Renly managed to screw up big time because while he can be nice, he's not the best guy there is. More Stannis! And yes, he's allowed to joke about his job. It's his way of venting to sarcastically quote people who claim they didn't know, honest officer!  
> We get the first look at the Lannisters all together and boy was it a mess! Now you see why last chapter was Tyrion's best thanksgiving ever. Next time we'll go into part three for the wrap up, such as it is! Will Renly be allowed to live? Will Margaery plot against Joff? Will we know how Tyrion intends to leak things to the media? Tune in the time!


	17. Thanksgiving 3: Endings

TYRION

Robb had been nearly foaming at the mouth since he’d gotten an incredibly long text from Renly. Normally Tyrion would have taken his leave, as Gendry and Sarah had done, except there was one tiny problem.

Sansa was dating Joffrey, his nephew. Which meant he was currently the closest thing they had to insight on what could have possibly gone wrong.

Which was _bad_ because Tyrion was having trouble giving information when he still didn’t get how anyone could possible want to be around Joffrey long enough to be in a relationship with him.

“Well, firstly,” he told the Starks, Theon, and a particularly-frightening-looking Ygritte, “Joffrey is an ass. Pure and simple. He may have said something or ignored her or any number of such things. His mother, my sister, is insane. She was probably worse. My father did not like yours and apparently dislikes your family. God knows how well that went. If I’d known who she was dating I’d have told you and Sansa that she should not got at all.”

“What do you mean your dad hates our family?” Robb asked darkly.

“Didn’t like your dad, your dad’s not around to dislike anymore, rest his soul, so you are now the targets of not being liked. He tried to intimidate me into not giving you a room, actually,” Tyrion said.

“And we let Sansa go to _that_?” Jon asked, sounding entirely as if he was sure he’d failed as an older sibling.

“You didn’t know what I know, which I didn’t know to tell you,” Tyrion admitted.

“Well, Renly and Loras are bringing her here. I made them,” Robb said.

“Ask which family member I need to sell out to the media,” Tyrion said.

Robb sent the text at once without a hint of remorse.

“So how do we play this?” Theon asked. Everyone looked at him. “Come on, she’s going to panic if we all just jump on her.”

“Bran, you’ll take Rickon to bed,” Robb said. “Jon, Arya, you talk to Sansa. Ygritte, you help with that. Theon, Tyrion, I want you to help me get whatever it is out of Loras and Renly.”

“Oh, indeed. I don’t think Renly’s as innocent as he made himself sound,” Tyrion said. “He can never resist riling up my sister.”

“Right. Let’s clean up before they’re here,” Robb said, heading for the kitchen.

Tyrion’s phone buzzed before he could follow the rest in trying to get everything put away. It was from Jaime.

 _Ran damage control. Cersei has convinced herself that Sansa is a poor sweet thing that is in no way evil, it’s just that you are because you “made” the Starks move in. Sorry. Don’t know how that happened_.

Why did Tyrion care what Cersei thought of Sansa now? Surely it was long past the time to…oh no. Oh hell no.

He was not telling a soul unless someone brought it up, which with the upcoming conversations was entirely possible. Frankly he didn’t even want to think about the idea of this actually dragging on in any way.

“Tyrion, Renly said your sister!” Robb called from the kitchen.

Well, that was pretty likely. Given Cersei’s general reaction to other pretty women or girls…or women near Jaime or Joffrey…really he should have guessed this by now. Oh well, it left him with plenty of options. He and his old college roommate Varys had made a hobby of collecting blackmail on people they didn’t like. Varys was now a popular gossip newscaster and Tyrion had ammunition in case of times like this.

He headed into the kitchen himself. Jon seemed to be trying to fit as much in the dishwasher as humanly possible in a way that made Tyrion assume he’s be very good at Tertris. Robb and Theon were both washing dishes, muttering what sounded like ways of torturing people—he could only assume Joffrey and Cersei—to each other. Bran was drying, and Arya, Ygritte, and Rickon were putting things away.

After Robb passed a large pot to Bran, he turned to Tyrion, “I want your honest to god opinion on this. Should Sansa keep dating Joffrey?”

“Well, let me first say that I am in no way unbiased towards my older nephew, we don’t personally get along,” Tyiron said. “But no. Not at all. Unless he’s somehow been forced into therapy or on some sort of anti-jackass medication, then _maybe_.”

“Good,” Robb said.

Theon nudged him, “What are you going to do when she gets mad about this?”

“Tell her I’ve looked the brat up. Bran, go google him.”

“On it,” Bran agreed, passing the towel to Rickon and wheeling out the door.

After everything was clean, Ygritte made Robb make everyone tea and Jon go read Rickon a bedtime story since he was already tired. Theon, Arya, and Bran tried to watch the football game—and it was looking like Theon would be seeing a hairdresser soon, if the bet stood—but frankly everyone was on edge.

No one touched the tea when Robb brought it back out. When Robb looked at whatever Bran found online, he looked like he wanted to smash the laptop.

Now Tyrion was going to have to google Joff when he got home…

Finally there was a key turned in the lock. Everyone but Tyrion went to rush the door but Theon managed to hold Robb and Bran back and Ygritte slowed Arya and Jon down so no one was bowled over.

Oh dear. Tyrion knew from Jaime that it was over half an hour’s drive from the manor to here and Sansa’s eyes were still very, very red and her makeup was a mess.

“Get in here, you two,” Robb added to Renly and Loras, who’d stayed skulking by the door.

“Why do they have to get in here?” Sansa sighed.

“I want to know what happened,” Robb said.

“It’s fine. Everything’s been smoothed over and…and it’s fine,” Sansa said. “Just a bad surprise.”

“That’s not what we heard,” Arya said carefully. “Sansa, if this guy’s bad news-”

“Joffrey is not bad news!” Sansa snapped. “It’s Renly’s fault anyway!”

“How is it my fault? How is them freaking out over where you live my fault?” Renly demanded.

“You knew they would and told them anyway! And I don’t even know why but you did it anyway!”

Great. Now Robb looked ready to kill Renly too… Tyrion sighed, “Renly, what did you _do_?”

“Cersei asked how Sansa and I knew each other. I told her Sansa lived her. She flipped,” Renly said flatly. “Not my fault she’s insane.”

“You knew she’d react that way!” Tyrion scolded as Sansa snapped something similar that he didn’t quite catch.

“Why didn’t they know? Seriously, how didn’t anyone know?” Theon asked blankly.

“My family and I have no contact besides Jaime and I, and most of them hate me, especially my sister,” Tyrion said. “They’re probably upset Sansa lives here.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Arya said.

“If they got on you over something this stupid, I don’t want you going over there again,” Robb said. “And you’re not seeing Joffrey until I’ve had a talk with him.”

“Oh, so you can scare him away?” Sansa asked angrily. “It’s under control, Jaime said he’d handle it!”

“Oh,” Tyrion said, thinking this was as good a time as any. “He texted me earlier, I didn’t read it, let me see…oh. He, ah, says it’s handled.”

“Traitor,” Robb muttered.

“I am merely relaying information,” Tyrion said firmly. “I-”

“See, it’s fine!” Sansa told Robb.

“It’s not fine!” Robb snapped. “Do you know what comes up when you google him?”

Now Tyrion was really curious. What had gotten past the PR departments?

“So he snapped at a few paparazzi hounding him, so what?” Sansa asked.

“He broke one’s nose!”

…Apparently a lot. Tyrion really needed to look into Joff more. This could be good entertainment.

“Sansa, the guy sounds like bad news,” Theon said.

She glared at him, “Stay out of this! It doesn’t involve you!”

“Hey, as someone who’s dated a psycho, let me tell you, you’re hitting some warning signs!” Theon said firmly. “You’re making a hell of a lot of excuses. I did that too. And I didn’t listen to my friends and family! And I’m _lucky_ to still have all my fucking _fingers_ after he got done with me!”

“That has _nothing_ to do with me!” Sansa said even as Theon went rigid at what had just come out of his mouth.

“Sansa, he’s trying to help, don’t yell at him,” Jon said as Arya and Bran both gaped at Theon.

“I’m not going to stop dating Joffrey because one thing went wrong,” Sansa said.

“I don’t want you seeing him!” Robb said sharply.

“You’re not the boss of me!” she replied.

“I don’t think anyone said they were the boss of anyone,” Tyrion said carefully.

“It’s not my fault Robb thinks he’s Dad!” Sansa said.

Well, fuck. That wasn’t good. Renly and Loras made a break for the door while the Starks all looks scandalized—even Sansa.

“I think you should go,” Ygritte told Tyrion.

“I think I should,” he agreed. “Thank you for the meal.”

 

ROBB

Nobody moved even after Tyiron left. Finally Sansa sighed and stormed off to her room, slamming the door.

Shit. Why did she…? Did he really…? He wasn’t trying to…

“Come on,” Theon said, grabbing his arm. “We’re staying at my place. You need to calm down.”

“I don’t need to calm down.”

“Then you’ll burn through so much energy you pass out,” Theon said coolly. “Come on, Robb. Stairs. Now.” He leaned close and dropped his voice, “You’re shaking, man. Please.”

Robb sighed, “Let me get my keys.”

Theon let him and then grabbed his hand, hauling him out the door and down several flights to the third floor.

“Did you mean it?” Robb asked quietly.

“Mean what?” Theon asked as he unlocked the door.

“What you told Sansa. About boyfriends.”

“Yeah.”

Robb shut the door after them before hugging Theon from behind. “That…that makes me really scared.”

“I’m sure her jackass is nothing like what I had. Well, okay, I think he’s still jackass but not that kind…I’m sure he doesn’t try and cut people up, I mean,” Theon said.

“I don’t know what to do,” Robb muttered into Theon’s shoulder. He knew he was going to cry that this rate. “Sansa hates me-”

“She’ll get over it. Everyone’s just pissed off right now.”

“But I _don’t_ want her seeing him. And there’s nothing I can do. I…I’m not Dad.”

Theon twisted around in the hug and kissed his temple, “No one said you had to be.”

“But…then what do I do?”

“Ah…I don’t know? Ban him from the apartment? Hell, say it’s for his safety,” Theon said, shrugging with a small grin. “That you’re not sure you and Arya can restrain yourselves.”

“What about Jon?”

“Please, he’d just give the kid a death glare until the brat was the one who started the fight,” Theon chuckled. “Anyway, she’ll be mad but she’ll get over it and eventually she’ll see the prick’s a prick. She’s smarter than me, she’ll leave him.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Robb grumbled.

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“It wasn’t funny,” Robb said before he was forced to cover a yawn.

“Thanks, sleepyhead,” Theon said. “Come on, let’s get your clothes off.”

“So that was your plan all along.”

“Well, you know me. Always an opportunist.”

Robb was just so tired he let Theon do what he wanted. “Love you.”

Theon paused, “Oh, um, err…me too. I love you too, that is.”

Robb smiled before his knees gave and he fell flat on Theon’s unmade bed. He was asleep a second later.

 

JON

“Well, this was a total bloody disaster.”

“I know we like Monty Python, but I’m not sure you can say that without being British,” Ygritte replied.

He smiled weakly at her. “Funny. But, really, that could not have ended worse.”

“True. The rest of the night was quite lovely, though. First Thanksgiving I’ve had with a large group. I liked it.”

“Thanks. It was our first…you know, without…”

“I know. And I still think it went pretty well,” Ygritte said. “You know, some of the guys I work with, they’d love to do me a favor and arrange an accident-”

“You’re saying this to a guy who wants to be a cop once he graduates.”

“Ah, want to arrest the little brat and make him sweat. Got it,” she said.

Jon snorted, “Not exactly, but a good plan if I need one. I just hope she’ll break up with him soon.”

“Sansa’s smart. She probably just freaked out because this was the second time tonight a bunch of people interrogated her.”

“Oh shit, did not think about that…why didn’t we do the plan?” Jon asked.

“Because Robb was too busy freaking out. Think the stress comes from what Sansa said he was doing?”

“What? No, Robb’s not trying to be Dad…well, okay, he is with Rickon and Bran sometimes…I don’t know,” Jon said. “I mean…that was low. Of Sansa.”

“She was freaking out, Robb was freaking out. Really I think everyone but the landlord was freaking out,” Ygritte said. “You say things when you get like that. I know Greyjoy’s mouth went on autopilot when he was trying to warn her.”

“Yeah. Kind of makes me feel bad for him. A little.”

“Not too much, Jon Snow. He’s still an ass,” Ygritte said, tugging him into bed.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

 

RHAEGAR

“Okay, seriously, I was fifteen minutes late, people! Fifteen minutes!”

“At least Dad’s not ranting anymore,” Daenerys said brightly. “He was mad when you weren’t on time.”

“Well…not ranting at humans,” Drogo added.

“Is he playing spider solitaire?” Rhaegar asked.

“I had to distract him so your sister could handle your insipid brother,” Drogo replied.

“…Dany, why is Viserys pinned down with free-weights?”

“Because he’s a lightweight,” she said. “Look, I’ll go warm up the turkey legs in the microwave, you get the rest of the stuff on the table, and then we’ll pull dad away from the computer and let skinny up.”

“This cannot be good for his self-esteem issues,” Rhaegar sighed, glancing as their brother tried to pull his limbs out from under the weights. “Drogo, that beer your family shipped better be strong…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friction alert! Internal Stark friction alert! Also, Lannisters Ruin Everything Unless Named Tyrion or Sometimes Jaime.  
> And before anyone calls Sansa a total idiot, recall that A) that's canon for her regarding love interests and B) like Ygritte said, she got piled on twice in one night and that just made her more defensive.  
> I did not forget the bet, the characters did. It will come up next chapter.  
> Robb's so tuckered out poor thing didn't realize this is the first time he and Theon got to say they love each other.  
> Also, Targaryens! To lighten the mood!


	18. Glad Tidings

“Oh good god what happened to you?”

Tyrion had come back from a rather good, if late, lunch and had run into Theon, himself about to leave, in the garage.

And Theon had absolutely ridiculous-looking gold-blonde steaks in his hair.

“Oh. That. I lost the bet, you know.”

“Ah.” He’d have thought everyone would have forgotten, given what had happened that evening and had been going on for a week up until now. “That was a week ago.”

“Yep.”

“…And you’re just now doing it?”

Theon shrugged, “Actually I did it yesterday. Someone had to lighten the mood. They were still at each other’s throats.”

“Well I suppose it got a smile out of Jon,” Tyrion said.

“And Rickon and Robb,” Theon said. “Anyways, got to go, otherwise I’ll be late and then Dagmer will try and switch me to early shift. If you see Robb, tell him I'm sorry I missed him!”

Tyrion continued inside. He had not been allowed to ban anyone from the building, but he had given some short videos of Cersei’s meanest meltdown to wait staff to a gossip site Varys had recommended. She’d been running damage control all week.

Of course, Jaime knew he’d done it and was barely talking to him. Mostly since Cersei running damage control also meant Jaime, as a PR exec at their father’s company, had to run damage control.

Brienne seemed to think it was it funny that they were trying to communicate through her instead of talking to each other. She probably found them pathetic.

“Oh! Errr…Boss, a little help?”

“Oh gods, Podrick, how did this happen?” Tyrion yelped when he saw what his desk boy was talking about.

“I think someone messed up the tinsel,” Pod said, grinning weakly.

“And this is why I prefer garlands,” Tyrion muttered, looking at the random bits of glittering string across the floor. “Didn’t we put it in the decorative bowls?”

“Looks like people have been taking it out when Gendry or I haven’t been looking,” Pod said as he continued picking it out of the carpet.

“Great. You keep doing that, then. It wreaks havoc on vacuum cleaners,” Tyrion said. “I’ll handle the desk until you’re done.”

“Got it, boss.”

“How was your Thanksgiving, anyway? I just realized I never asked you.”

“Oh, it was o- _okay_. Uncle Ilyn took me to the movies,” Pod said. “Then we ate leftovers and played with his cats.”

“Sounds fun,” Tyrion said, looking over the logbook. A few visitors, nothing much. Deliveries.

He switched on the computer and started looking through the finances. Most of the rents were up to date…Theon had paid next month in advance, probably from increased tips during the start of holiday shopping season…huh, the AC repairs were supposed to start yesterday, but hadn’t. He’d need to get on that…

“What the hell are you doing?”

“P-picking up t-t-tinsel!” Pod said defensively. Tyrion stood on his chair to see over the desk.

Joffrey. Of course. “Hello, Joffrey.”

“Uncle,” the boy sneered. Pod glared at him.

“Well, as a visitor, state your business,” Tyrion said, reaching for the guestbook.

“Seeing how much of a shithole you have my girl living in,” Joff said.

Pod kept glaring at him as he went back to picking up tinsel.

“I have it on good knowledge Robb and Jon Stark do not want you in their dwelling,” Tyrion said. “I’d advise you simply call Sansa and ask her to come down.”

“I know Robb and Jon aren’t here right now. Sansa’s told me when Robb works and her crippled brother has his therapy,” Joff said. “So I’ll just be going up.”

“Arya Stark is,” Tyrion said. “With the dogs and her fencing sword. I feel I really should warn you against this.”

“He’s not kidding,” Pod said smugly.

“I’m not talking to you!” Joffrey spat.

“Well _I_ was t-talking t-to you!” Pod snapped back. “An-and _we_ have to honor the request from the people who pay-p-p-pay the rent that you _not_ be up there right now!”

“Joffrey. Call Sansa down here. I won’t say it again,” Tyrion said. “Podrick, carry on.”

Pod casually started picking tinsel closer to the elevator, smart boy that he was. His stutter might still be getting in the way now and then, but apparently righteous speeches were now on the docket.

“I see your employee has picked up your rudeness,” Joffrey muttered.

“I’ll be a cold day in hell when Podrick is as truly awful as me, Joffrey,” Tyrion said. “We have free wi-fi if you want to play on your phone or something. Excuse me, I’m quite busy.”

Joffrey whipped his phone back out and slouched against the counter. Charming. Tyrion shook his head and went back to the accounts.

His own phone buzzed. He pulled it out…what? Since when did Varys text him?

 _Check email now. Varys_.

He silently opened his email.

Oh god. Cersei was suspended from two of the charities—really high society ladies’ clubs that donated some money here and there—she supposedly _headed_. Oh this was delicious.

And Jaime was going to kill him for making such a mess, but then Tyrion was sure he’d be forgiven by the end of the week. Two weeks, no later.

“Oh, right,” Joffrey groaned. “Dad wants the Starks to get this. Just shove it in their mailbox or whatever…”

He flicked a business card over the counter. Tyrion picked it up, on the back were what was apparently Robert’s personal cell and a request for Robb or Jon to come up with a good time for him to come over and “talk things out.”

Tyrion vaguely considered being nice and reminding Joffrey not to hand such private things to people. A lot of people would take advantage of the governor’s private number. But frankly it wasn’t like Joffrey would listen to him anyway. “I’ll let them know.”

Odd of Joffrey to make sure to come when the people the card was for weren’t here. Tyrion wondered if he was genuinely scared of Sansa’s older brothers.

The elevator dinged and Pod casually got out of the way before the doors opened. Sansa stepped out and dear _god_ how could anyone smile that that at seeing Joff.

No, no, that was personal biases. Maybe Joff was capable of pretending to be human around some people. Tyrion himself was less dry and cynical with dates. And he was not taking sides. He was the landlord, it was not his job to.

“Pod, have you sorted the mail for today?” he asked as Joffrey and Sansa left.

“Yes.”

“All right then,” he said. He’d just wait and hand it to Robb when he brought Bran back from therapy around five.

.o.o.o.

“Do you know what he wants?” Robb asked.

“Not at all. I’m merely the messenger’s messenger,” Tyrion replied as Gendry took over for Pod in the tinsel removal effort.

“The what?” Bran snickered.

“The real messenger is scared of Robb and Jon, it seems.” Well, that probably didn’t help the situation, but it felt so good to tell someone.

Robb smirked faintly, “He should be. Thanks.”

“No trouble. Oh, and Theon says hi and sorry he missed you.”

Robb’s expression quickly switched to sappy and Tyrion tactfully did not say that frankly the boy was just as prone to being silly about romance as Sansa and had simply picked a better partner.

“Did you see his hair?” Bran asked, snickering.

“Yes, I did. Gendry, did your mother do that?” Tyrion asked.

“Yeah. She said two of the other stylists were openly mourning the 'marring' of such ‘fabulous’ hair,” Gendry muttered, shaking his head. “She works with some real drama queens.”

Robb huffed, “It’s not marred, he still looks perfectly fine.”

“Spoken like a true boyfriend,” Margaery said, gliding out of the elevator. “Renly could shave his head and Loras would convince himself it looked good.”

“Hey, Margaery,” Bran said.

“Thanks for watching Arya and Rickon,” Robb said, pulling out his wallet. “They okay when you left?”

“Arya’s still mired down in homework and Rickon’s teaching Shaggydog how to fetch his backpack,” Margaery replied, taking her payment for babysitting-slash-tutoring. “Your younger sister’s math teacher sounds like he explains nothing at all.”

“I had one like that…wait, she’s going to my old school, right?” Gendry asked. “Is it Mr. Frey?”

“There’s three Freys at that school,” Robb said, shrugging.

“Kind of skinny…smug as hell…” Gendry said. “Think his name was Jared…”

“Sounds right,” Robb said.

“…Doesn’t Theon work with a Frey?” Bran asked. “He’s mentioned him a few times…”

“Olyvar?” Robb said. “Yeah, he’s all right. He’s a bit younger than me. Maybe he’s Jared’s nephew?”

“Brother,” Margaery said. “Their father’s like someone from the quiverfull movement without being a fundamentalist. Lots of divorces as a result. He’s got like…thirty kids.”

“How do you know that?” Tyrion asked.

“Dad made some deal with him once. Long story short I do not like them,” she said tightly.

“Fun,” Gendry said dryly.

“Oh, don’t get me started,” she laughed. “Never thought I’d have five brother hitting on me in one night…”

“Oh, that’s just sad,” Tyrion laughed.

.o.o.o.

“All right, spill,” Tyrion said into the phone. “How the hell did you make it happen?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Varys replied.

“Come off it, you sent me an email about it,” Tyrion said, rolling his eyes.

“Ah, that. See, you need to be more specific, as I make many things happen,” his friend laughed. “And, well, if a certain First Lady of the state isn’t helping the poor like she claims to be, why shouldn’t I make sure she’s exposed?”

“Oh really?” Tyrion shuddered. Varys _hated_ people who only pretended to help the downtrodden. It never ended well for his targets.

“Indeed. Did you know both of those ‘charities’ she headed have also engaged in minor false advertising and, if certain sources of mine play out, minor tax fraud?”

“Please tell me you don’t think siccing the IRS on my sister is a viable Christmas present for me.”

“Oh, heavens no. Now, the videos of her _reactions_ to said onslaught of controversy…”

“I see,” Tyrion said. “I was actually wondering something, though. Are you trying to just boot Cersei or shut down the organizations altogether?”

“Well, the hunger-related one might do all right with the new chair they’ve appointed, but the education one is frankly beyond saving, if you ask me and of course this is only an opinion,” Varys said. “But guess which one has all the tax fraud possibilities?”

“Scoundrel,” Tyrion snickered. “Also, did you find anything else out about that other matter?”

“Oh, now who needs to come off it, _what_ matter?”

“The one we discussed back when you agreed not to out Jaime dating Brienne.”

“Ah yes. I have a few leads but nothing substantial, per say. Certainly nothing I’d tell anyone.”

“All right. If you need me to do anything-”

“No, this requires lot of finesse. One of my little birds will do nicely,” Varys said. “Oh, and…ah…oh my.”

“What?” Tyrion asked.

“Email,” Varys said. “It seems Stannis Baratheon has formally charged Cersei with assault over one of those videos I put out there. The waitress gave an interview.”

“And people thought his staying Attorney General after his brother’s election was a conflict of interest.” Tyrion shook his head. Stannis would jail his own daughter if he ever had to—not that he would, the time Renly had babysat her and brought her over she’d seemed one of those too-innocent-to-do-ill types.

“Well, I’ll let you go. Knowing you brother you’ll be busy on the other line soon,” Varys said.

Tyrion laughed when not ten minutes later Jaime called him, “Hello?”

“Oh, god, what’s so funny?,” Jaime groaned. “Oh shit you know already, don’t you?”

“Is it my fault I was monitoring the fallout?”

“No, but something tells me it’s your fault it’s this bad.”

“That accusation is rude and baseless.”

“Much like you, sometimes.”

“Oh, cute,” Tyrion said. “So, what defcon are we at now?”

“We’re not, I am,” Jaime groaned. “And I am going to kill you for it Saturday.”

“Saturday?”

“Brienne and I are both in that tournament upstate? You’re driving?” Jaime offered.

“Oh. That. Well, since we weren’t speaking I thought-”

“Hell no. I’m sleeping there and back and her car’s in the shop.”

“…She could drive yours, if we were to continue this train of thought,” Tyrion said. “Anyway, is it a betting tournament?”

“Why?”

“So I can make money off of you and Brienne, why else?” Tyrion asked.

“With the mess you made for me I might take a dive if you put a lot of cash on my winning,” Jaime said.

“Please. You’re a Lannister. Our pride would never allow it.”

“You never know,” Jaime warned.

“Jaime, you don’t hate me that much and, again, you have your pride. As well as the fact that your girlfriend would nag you to death over a dive.”

“Well…yes,” Jaime admitted.

“Look, just be here early Saturday morning, I don’t care if it means spending Friday night, and poor Brienne can futilely attempt to make us get over ourselves on the drive. Sound fun?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Not that I’m not still mad at you.”

“Why are you mad at _me?_ Be mad at Stannis,” Tyrion complained.

“I can’t. He’s really just doing his job.”

“He’s quite good at it. Maybe he’ll be national attorney general someday,” Tyrion said.

“Maybe. If he’s not burnt out by then.”

“True. Well, goodnight Jaime.”

“Night, Tyrion, see you in a few days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we see how things are getting on a week later and Joffrey decides he's still allowed in the narrative while  
> Pod decides he has some serious spine. Meanwhile Tyrion's media assassination plan is revealed to be his old college roommate, who took his time showing up in this fic. I love reading his lines in the voice Ask Westeros' Varys uses.  
> And the bet loser is....Theon! An image of him with his dyed hair (and him and Robb in their respective winter coats) is here: http://kereea.deviantart.com/art/Theon-and-Robb-Winter-495489675  
> Yep, I'll bet most of us guessed that. Next time he and Robb take center stage as they try and figure out what Robb's going to do about that card...


	19. More Stark Troubles

THEON

He beamed as Robb opened the car door, revealing that he’d stopped for fast food on the way to pick Theon up. “Robb, you are a _god_.”

“No, you’re just hungry,” Robb laughed, going back around to his side of the car.

“That I am. Remind me never to run off to a shift without eating something right before! Or remembering to bring myself food! I had to subsist on saltines, Robb. _Saltines_ ,” Theon said.

“I won’t forget. You texted me twenty times over it,” Robb said.

“Oh. Uh…oops?” Theon offered.

“Yeah, oops,” Robb said, getting on the road. “Listen, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” Theon said, digging into a burger.

“I got a card. From the governor. He…wants to talk.”

“About what?” Theon asked, forgetting that his mouth was full until Robb made a face. “Sorry.”

“I think it’s about Joff the jerkoff,” Robb said.

“You know, stewing about how much you hate your sister’s boyfriend doesn’t help with anything. Just saying,” Theon said. Not that he was a paragon of emotional maturity himself, but really, Robb stressed easy even when not simmering.

“Yeah. But…anyway…what do you think?”

“Well…he and your dad were pals, right?” Theon asked, “Maybe it’s not about Joffrey. Maybe Governor Baratheon feels bad about not checking in on your lot sooner. I mean, how long since you’ve seen him?”

“Since the funeral in February,” Robb said.

Theon whistled. “Wow. He’s probably feeling really guilty, if that’s the case.”

“I know, right?” Robb asked. “And Jon’s playing the indifferent card—I hate it when he does that!”

“Only because you want to be the one to do it for once,” Theon snickered.

“…Yeah, okay,” Robb said. “But it drives me nuts whenever I have to make family decisions.”

“Told Sansa yet?” Theon asked.

“No. Especially not when I don’t know if I even want to see the guy.”

“Well, do what you think is best,” Theon said, going for the fries. “You want one?”

Robb opened his mouth and Theon quickly dipped a fry in ketchup before reaching over and sliding it in.

“So, this really has you in knots, huh?” Theon asked.

“Yeah,” Robb said. “I mean…am I bad for not wanting things smoothed over with Joffrey?”

“No.” Robb couldn’t be bad about Joffrey unless he outright tried to murder the brat. “He doesn’t seem good for Sansa. And hoping it’ll stay rough and she’ll get out because of it isn’t bad, I think.”

“I guess. But I do kind of want to talk to the governor,” Robb admitted. “I mean…he was close to Dad, and all. Maybe it’ll make me feel better.”

“If it’s what you think you need. Not that I’m a therapist, so feel free to tell me my advice is shit at any time,” Theon said as they entered the parking garage.

“Your advice is not shit,” Robb said. “I just…can’t things just be easy?”

“Robb, welcome to _real life_ ,” Theon said slowly. “Sadly for you, the only easy thing you’ve got is your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, you are kind of easy,” Robb agreed.

“You say sex and I say where, how soon, and what position?” Theon said cheekily before laughing at how deeply that made Robb blush. “Come on, Stark, you stopped being a virgin months ago. Enough with blushing like one!”

“I’m not an exhibitionist.”

“Neither am I. Not trying to screw you out here, am I?” Theon asked. And even if he was so inclined, it was way too cold to consider something like that.

“Well, you’re a verbal exhibitionist at any rate,” Robb said.

“That’s not a thing.”

“It’s _totally_ a thing.”

“You’re a thing,” Theon muttered under his breath as they headed up the stairs.

“What was that?” Robb asked him.

“Nothing, just a cough,” Theon said. “Need some water. Throat’s a bit dry from arguing all night.”

“Arguing?”

“Idiots who tried to swindle for free drinks. Happens,” Theon said. Poor Olyvar, too, his brother—it was a brother, right? He could _not_ keep his coworker’s relatives straight—Elmar had guilt tripped the guy into two free vodka shots that were totally coming out of his pay.

“That sounds like it sucks,” Robb said as Theon unlocked the door.

“Tel me about it,” Theon said, shucking his jacket and tossing it on the table. Robb rolled his eyes and grabbed it to hang it up, his own jacket and scarf following it. “Neat freak.”

“Shut up, sex fiend,” Robb said.

“Make me,” Theon said, pulling out a water bottle and downing a few gulps. He squawked as Robb quickly reached over to tickle him. “The _hell_ man?”

“Got you to stop talking,” Robb said, smirking.

“There’s better ways to get me to stop talking,” Theon said, grinning.

“Not tonight. I’m tired,” Robb said, wrapping his arms around him anyway.

“See, this is why you need to stop worrying so much. It wears you out and then I don’t get sex.”

“Sorry Theon, but the answer tonight is in bed, after you brush your teeth, and nothing beyond cuddling,” Robb said.

“Smartass,” Theon said, going to brush his teeth anyway. He’d deny it to anyone who asked, but cuddling with Robb was always pretty nice. Sex was better, of course, but the cuddling was fine.

He still was going to give the Stark a massive hickey though.

 

ROBB

Robb woke up early the next morning. It wasn’t that odd, his internal clock was more set to his classes and work and his younger sibling’s school schedules than it was to picking up Theon after midnight.

He smirked slightly as he disentangled himself from the Greyjoy. Theon might have complained about cuddling until the end of days, but he was also the one who latched on stronger.

Finally free, he tucked the blankets back around Theon, pulled on his clothes from last night and wandered into the kitchen. Coffee would probably do him some good. He poured the grounds and water into the coffeemaker and went to get a mug.

Robb frowned pensively at the small red box stored on the shelf above the cups. It was full of all the incidents they’d written down and recorded, all the letter Theon got that had no return address…

Robb had asked Jon if it would be enough, since Jon was the one studying to be a cop and all, and the jerk had said he didn’t know, that circumstances varied but maybe they could manage a restraining order that this point. Maybe.

Theon hadn’t liked “maybe” and said to just wait. He didn’t put much stock in the police being able to do anything about Ramsay and didn’t want to piss the guy off prematurely.

Robb briefly fantasized about breaking the slimy bastard’s face before the coffee was ready.

Damn it. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Well, it wasn’t like he knew the answer to that. He wandered to the closet and fished his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.

A text from Jon demanding to know if he’d gotten back from picking up Theon. A text from Brienne, asking for her and Jaime to be wished luck at some tournament today. Missed call from Uncle Edmure.

Robb switched to voicemail as he poured the coffee and listened to his uncle’s message.

“Hey, Robb! Listen, I was wondering if there was anything you kids wanted me to get you for Christmas? Or, you know, anything you’d like to do you’d need me for? Anyway, I’m here for you! Talk to you later!”

Right. First Thanksgiving without their parents was followed by the first Christmas without them. Robb was just glad Rickon was old enough not to try and ask Santa to bring them back. He wouldn’t have been able to take it.

He texted a reply to Jon about not waiting up so late and one to Brienne wishing her luck and Jaime slightly less luck, since he wanted her to win.

He sat down. He liked Theon’s apartment, he felt…more relaxed here. More like he didn’t have to keep everything running smoothly for everyone even if he had no idea what he was doing.

He should ask Theon if he could move in. Then Arya could take his room instead of sharing with Jon and getting kicked out to the couch whenever Ygritte was over.

Robb jerked slightly. Had he just…planned on moving in with Theon? Actually that would be kind of nice…

He glanced over at the cracked bedroom door. Sure, Theon was on a noisy floor but…well…

He drank more coffee. Clearly his brain wasn’t awake yet. When that didn’t make him stop thinking about certain things, he got another cup.

He was on his third cup when Theon stumbled out of the bedroom, yawning widely and wearing nothing but his underwear. “Morning Robb…”

“Morning,” Robb said and he _knew_ his ears were burning. Why couldn’t Theon put clothes on like a normal person?

Theon was pouring his own coffee when he paused and looked at the pot, “Robb, how much of this did you drink?”

“I’m on my third cup,” Robb admitted.

“Oh, _precious_ ,” Theon mocked, bringing his own cup over and sinking half onto the beat up couch and half onto Robb’s lap. “You’re jittery enough without a caffeine overdose. Of course, you know what that means…”

“No, not really.” Theon’s thought process when not fully awake tended to elude him.

“You’re _not tired anymore_ ,” Theon said in a singsong voice.

“Yeah, and you’re ready to fall over and go back to snoozing,” Robb said.

“Not if someone blows me I’m not,” Theon said.

Robb choked on his coffee. “Dude!”

Theon laughed and threw an arm around Robb, hauling him close to plant a sloppy kiss near his eye. His breath smelled like coffee with a bit of vodka. “I’m being honest, Robb! Isn’t that what good boyfriends do?”

“Did you somehow get drunk while sleeping?” No, stupid question, he could see in Theon’s eyes that his boyfriend still hadn’t fully woken up.

“Nah, just more horny,” Theon said, wiggling his hips.

And…and okay, maybe he was starting to get interested.

Theon took another few gulps of coffee. “And besides, you need to unwind. I mean, here I am, just waking up, and you’re tensed up like a little bunny rabbit ready to run. So I think to myself I think, Theon-”

“Oh my god, this better not be going where I think it is-”

“I think, Theon, you don’t want your pretty little Robb running away from you-”

“Little? I’ve got three inches and at least twenty pounds of muscle on you!”

“So you need to convince him to do the other thing bunnies are known for besides running!” Theon said triumphantly.

“…Essentially you’re not going to shut up until I screw you?”

“Yep.”

“Fine. But you have to wash the coffee mugs later,” Robb said.

“Oh, baby, I will wash _all_ the mugs.”

“ _How are you making that sound dirty_?”

 

THEON

He shouldn’t say it. Theon knew he should not say it.

But he couldn’t resist. “Feel better now, bunny?”

He kept laughing even after Robb hit him with a pillow. “Oh come on, I’m being honest! Do you feel better?”

“…Yeah. Thanks,” Robb said.

“Well, hey, you’re not in all those sports and activities you had back in high school, got to blow to steam somehow. And since I’m so selfish of course we’re going to do it my way,” Theon gloated. “You’re so much more fun once I get you to stop blushing.”

“Sex addict.”

“Am not.”

“Are so. What’d you do before you started dating me? Get yourself off or a lot of one night stands?” Robb asked and where the _hell_ did that come from?

“I take it back. Give me the blushing virgin, please,” Theon muttered.

“…You okay?” Robb asked, looking concerned.

“Look, doing it myself didn’t work so great, okay? And I didn’t want to spend the night at anyone’s place because…issues, and I didn’t want to bring them here because, _well_.” He might as well have just handed them to his stupid stalker with the note ‘Here, I had sex with this, I know you’ll want to hurt it.’

“Theon-”

“I let a bunch of guys I don’t even remember what they looked like fuck me in bathrooms, okay!” Theon blurted out. Shit. He did not mean to say that.

“…Okay,” Robb said.

“Okay?” Theon demanded.

“Yeah, okay. It was before we were dating, right?”

“Well, yeah. Duh.” Robb was very good at satisfying his needs, after all. And even if Robb was bad at sex, Theon wasn’t so sure he’d want to cheat on the guy he’d had a crush on since Robb had hit puberty.

“Then okay,” Robb said. “What, did you think I didn’t figure out that you _like_ sex?”

Theon groaned at how smug Robb sounded. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I want to know what the hell you were thinking!” Robb said, unable to keep himself from laughing.

“I don’t know!” That Robb might call him a slut or something…

“Oh, good, you’re still just your usual idiot self,” Robb teased, kissing him. “Come on, wake up. I decided I’m going to call the guy.”

“Robb, I’m sorry, explain this to me. How does having sex with me make you decide to call the governor?” Theon asked.

“You were right. I needed to loosen up on some— _some_ —things,” Robb said. “And I’m feeling pretty loose right now.”

Theon burst out laughing, “Okay, okay, sure, just promise me one thing.”

“What?” Robb asked.

“Never tell me ‘I’m feeling pretty loose right now’ again.” His poor heart would give out he’d be laughing so hard. He could barely breathe right now.

And there was that blush. “Not like that!”

“Oh my _god_ I love it when you slip like that,” Theon howled.

“You are not helping!”

If ‘helping’ meant not laughing, then Robb would have to be disappointed because he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we had a bit more a glimpse into Robb's mind and the pressure he's under (for those wanting to ask about Jon staying out of it, wait patiently, he'll be explained later), his and Theon's inner thought process regarding their relationship, the fact that Robb will in fact be making that call now, and some worldbuilding.  
> I had a lot of fun with the banter in this chapter. Can you tell?  
> Next time we swing over to Tyrion, Jaime, and Brienne.


	20. Champions and Secrets

TYRION

“What on earth are you doing?” Brienne asked as Tyrion scratched down some numbers on a copy of the tournament tree.

“Figuring out where the most advantageous betting will occur,” Tyrion said. “You’re going to beat Trant no problem and everyone knows it but I’ll probably get steeper odds whether you face Oakheart or that other one who will probably still lose to Oakheart.”

“What about me?” Jaime asked as he wrapped his hands.

“Facing Dacey Mormont right out of the gate, you poor thing. I’m not sure I want money on that.”

“Go to hell,” Jaime said. “First you give me more work to do and then you won’t bet on me? Really?”

“Oh fine,” Tyrion said. “I’ll bet on you.”

“Thank you,” Jaime said.

“Is this how you resolve all your fights? Tyrion agreeing to put money on you?” Brienne asked.

“Or him helping me with my job by calling off his friend,” Jaime said.

“I don’t know why you think I have control over what he says,” Tyrion said.

“You do when you feed him tips.”

“Only when it’s called for.”

“Which it wasn’t.”

“I beg to differ. It led to an investigation on tax fraud.”

“Which I have to damage control, thank you very much.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Brienne sighed.

Tyrion frowned, “No we aren’t. _Jaime_ might manage pretty but I assure you I am purely handsome.”

“Yes boss,” she said, rolling her eyes as Jaime flipped him off. “Figure your bets out quickly, though. First fight’s in ten minutes.”

 

ROBB

“Calm down, you look fine,” Theon said.

“I’m wearing what I wore last night!”

“And nobody but you and me know that,” Theon said brightly. “Look, the guy’s schedule was free right now, we’re going right now. Don’t freak out and I’ll let you do something sappy like take me to lunch when you’re done.”

“Oh my god I just had sex two hours ago!” Robb said.

“What, are you going to talk about that or something?” Theon asked.

“No, but…argh!” Robb groaned.

“Robb, you look fine. Again. Get through whatever you need to get through with the governor and then we’ll get food and you can do the whole good-boyfriend thing and I’ll weasel more sex out of you on the way home,” Theon said.

“You really do have this down to a system,” Robb noted.

“Yep. And you just missed the turn.”

“Damn it!”

 

TYRION

Huh. Jaime vs. Oberyn was next. Tough call…Brienne had lost to Oberyn before, and Jaime had lost to Brienne that time in the hallway…of course that was a hallway, not a regulation mat in a sanctioned tournament…

“What do you think?” Tyrion asked Brienne as Alsayne Mormont continued to beat Qarl whatshisname into the floor. “Oberyn’s faster but Jaime hits harder…”

“Jaime. He’ll make Oberyn attack first, sidestep and then knock him down from behind, and after that pretty much sit on him,” Brienne said. “Or pin him down some other way until Oberyn says uncle.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Jaime and I have been working out plans to beat Oberyn Martell for weeks,” Brienne replied. “We came to the conclusion that if you can actually grab a firm hold of him then you have a chance.”

“So we’re betting on Jaime tanking all Oberyn’s hits until then?” Tyrion asked.

“He can take it. Oberyn doesn’t do face-punches much and that Jaime’s main weakness. Well, that and hair-pulling,” she said.

“Oh, I know about the hair-pulling. Worked great when we were kids. Only time I ever beat him in a fight.”

“When did you two get in a physical fight?” Brienne asked, looking shocked.

“I was in second grade, he was in fifth. I think it was over who got to play what Monopoly piece. I’m not that sure, I just recall him giving in after I yanked his hair,” Tyrion said. “He wore it fairly long back then, so it was rather easy.”

“Huh. Jaime with long hair…he’d kind of look like your sister, wouldn’t he?” Brienne asked, lips pursed in thought.

“He did. That’s why he cut it. Serious blow to his masculinity—not that you heard it from me,” Tyrion said before heading over to the bookie.

 

ROBB

Theon waved goodbye to him as he entered the governor’s office—and that was so not the place to do a talk like this, why oh why couldn’t Robert have picked something like a park or even a home office or random side room?—clearly intent on messing with the secretary until Robb returned.

He sent the woman a silent prayer. Theon Greyjoy bored was not always fun.

“Robb!” Robert said loudly as he came in. “So glad you called at just the right time!”

“Same. Good to see you again,” Robb said, shaking the governor’s hand when it was offered. “So, um, what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I’ve figured out you’re not too happy about Sansa seeing Joffrey.”

Damn it. It _was_ about that. “Well, no offense, but the first time I sent her to a family gathering with him she came home in tears. A guy worries.”

“And that’s perfectly well-founded,” Robert said in a way that Robb found kind of patronizing. “And I am very sorry she got dragged into Renly and my wife’s spat.”

“Yeah. I’d kind of like to know what’s going on there,” Robb said. “Like if it’s something I need to be concerned about.”

“It’s not. Cersei deeply wants to apologize to Sansa for letting Renly manipulate her into lashing out at the poor girl,” Robert said.

While Robb wasn’t letting Renly off the hook, he wasn’t going to go calling him the only bad guy so quickly. “I think everyone made some mistakes.” His was letting Sansa go to the damn dinner.

“Well, I’m glad we can agree on that,” Robert said. “So there won’t be any further problems?”

“…Okay, wait, did something happen after the dinner and no one told me?” Robb asked. Because he could see why no one would, given his reaction to the disaster on Thanksgiving, but…

“Robb, are you telling me you didn’t send these?” Robert asked, handing him some papers.

Email printouts. _Threatening_ email printouts. Mentioning stuff that Robb had no goddamn clue about but sure as hell sounded compromising if the writer did have proof of them.

_I will release it all if Joffrey does not start treating Sansa Stark properly_.

“You think I wrote these?” Robb asked as a horrible feeling settled in his gut.

This had never been about wanting to talk at all. This hadn’t been about wanting to fix things, not really.

This wasn’t Robert trying to do right by his best friend’s children.

“Did you?” Robert asked.

“No!” Robb snapped, tossing them back across the desk. “Though I’d like to hug whoever did! Joffrey’s apparently been a dick to my sister in public and it hasn’t reached me yet? Is that your doing, governor?”

“What?” Robert asked. “That’s all made up nonsense-”

“Then why the fuck are you threatened by it?” Robb demanded. “I don’t know who wrote those but frankly I’m on their side.”

“You don’t know? So it wasn’t Tyrion either, then?” Robert asked.

Tyrion? Why on earth…

_Ask which family member I need to sell out to the media_.

Oh shit. Maybe this was his fault.

“I don’t know who did it,” Robb repeated. “Unless you have anything else to talk about, I think that will be all.”

 

TYRION

He only slightly mourned the loss of his money when Brienne flipped Jaime flat on the mat and pinned him with her superior bulk. At least his conscience was clear, betting on his big brother.

Jaime was a good sport about it, gleefully raising Brienne’s arm like they were tournament fighters of old.

“How do you suppose the bloggers will word this? Lovers spat? Jaime Lannister loses to love?” Oberyn asked, nursing a black eye as he sat next to Tyrion.

“I couldn’t give two fucks about the sports bloggers say,” Tyrion said.

“Neither do I, really, but I’m sure the headlines will be sublime,” the beaten Martell laughed. “Wish I could have fought her, though.”

“Well Jaime beat you and she beat him,” Tyrion pointed out. “So we can guess how it would have gone.”

“She beat him after he had to fight me,” Oberyn said.

“Oh yes, her victory I all thanks to you,” Tyrion drawled.

“I’m just saying it’s not as simple as you’re saying it would be,” Oberyn argued. “By the way, that mess with Cersei…would that have been you?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Tyrion said. “But I do think you might want to get up, they’re giving out awards.”

 

ROBB

Theon grinned at him as he left the office, only for it to slide off his face as soon as he got a good look at Robb. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just not a fun talk,” Robb said. “Where do you want to go for lunch?”

“Wherever you want. I’m not the date-master here,” Theon said as they headed for the doors. He frowned, “Seriously, Robb. Are you okay?”

“I’m _fine_.” He was going to bash his head against the wall as soon as he was alone, but he was fine.

“Robb, come on. Talk to me.”

“I…I just…can we not?” Robb asked.

“Dude, what happened?” Theon asked. “You look like you’re about to cry and try and kill something at the same time. And that’s kind of freaking me out.”

“I look like _what_?”

Theon grinned, “Good, I have your attention. Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone who doesn’t know you knows how you look when you’re going to have a breakdown, princess.”

“Theon…”

“Robb, tell me what happened?”

“It wasn’t about Joffrey. Or, it was, rather, but not in a way I like,” Robb said.

“What, he excuse the little twerp?”

“No. Someone’s blackmailing them. About how Joff treats Sansa. Robert thought it might have been _me_. He called me in over his reputation,” Robb said, knowing how bitter he sounded but not caring because there was more. “And when I convinced him it wasn’t me he thought it was Tyrion and you have no idea how hard I had to work to keep a straight face because it _might be_ because remember what _I_ told Tyrion at Thanksgiving?”

“Oh. Fuck,” Theon said. “Well, you can ask him. But, wasn’t he just going to leak some info to the press and have that be that?”

“I don’t know. Damn it, what have I done?” Robb groaned.

“Um…possibly nothing?” Theon asked. “Look, screw lunch. Let’s get some ice cream, head back to my place and maybe, I don’t know, talk about our feelings or whatever? You can get drunk, if that helps, I mean, _you_ don’t have work tonight-”

Idiot. Robb chuckled, “You’re terrible about feelings, aren’t you?”

“Got you to smile, didn’t I?” Theon asked proudly.

Robb felt his grin widen. “Yeah. You did.”

 

TYRION

He parked in his spot before picking up his water bottle. “Up and at ‘em, you two, don’t make me use this!”

“What?” Jaime groaned. “Oh, shoot, Brienne, wake up…”

“I’m up, I heard him,” she said, stretching. “Did we sleep the whole way back?”

“Pretty much. Hope it doesn’t interfere with your ability to sleep tonight,” Tyrion said. “Apparently any nap over half an hour can do that.”

“Great…”Jaime yawned. “I’ll get the bags, you get the trophies?”

“Sure,” Brienne agreed.

Absurdly adorable, the both of them. With any luck in a year or two he’d have new niece or nephew to spoil rotten.

“Hey, Tyrion!”

He looked up to see Robb and Theon. Robb looked wrung out and Theon looked…not apprehensive, but more like cautiously curious, Tyrion thought.

“Can we have a sec?” Theon asked.

“About what?” Tyrion asked as Brienne pretended to take a swing at Jaime with her trophy after he tried to steal a kiss.

“I got called to talk to the governor this morning-” Robb said.

“Oh, hell, Robert thought it was _you_?” Jaime blurted out.

“…Am I missing something?” Tyrion asked.

“Someone’s blackmailing him. Over Joffrey and my sister,” Robb said tightly. “Was that you?”

“No, no, I only asked someone to dig up a bit on Cersei,” Tyrion insisted. “Jaime?”

“We have no idea who it is,” Jaime said. “Cersei assumed it was you but Father didn’t think so.”

“Really?” Tyrion asked.

“Come on, you’d have gone right to Stark over it and red here would have either murdered Joffrey or maybe pressed charges…assuming the stuff in the emails is true. I have no proof,” Jaime said.

“I’ll agree with that,” Robb said darkly.

“Jaime what the hell is going on with ur dear older nephew?” Tyrion asked.

“I don’t know, it’s been kept quiet enough to not need PR,” Jaime said. “But…I’d recommend getting your sister away from him, if it’s pushing you to contemplating murder. You seem a nice guy, something pissing you off that much…”

“Um, excuse me, but we do have another problem,” Tyrion said. “It’s no me, not my friend, he’d have told me, and it’s not Robb…who’s blackmailing the governor? And _how_ do they know things even we don’t?”

Theon frowned, “And the press doesn’t too. The governor’s son, that’s someone where it should have gotten out if it was in any way public…”

“So what’s going on?” Brienne concluded. “Who else would know?”

“The Tyrells?” Tyrion guessed. “Margaery’s grandmother might have pulled some strings…Loras and Renly certainly seemed horrified enough on Thanksgiving and Margaery likes Sansa quite a bit…”

“Olenna has a style, she wouldn’t have stayed quite this quiet, she’d have let out a tiny little leak to the press by now,” Jaime said. “I’ve dealt with her shit before, had to spin it back. It’s not her.”

“This…this does not leave the parking garage,” Robb said firmly. “Agreed?”

“Are you not going to tell your sister?” Tyrion asked, amused.

“Well, yes, not that she’ll believe me,” Robb sighed. “But no one else, we’ll probably get something mixed up or the wrong person in trouble or whatever.”

“So we have one more thing to shut up about,” Brienne sighed.

“One more?” Jaime asked.

“My thing, which will hopefully be over soon,” Theon said, clearly forcing a smile. “I am not having Valentine’s Day with Robb with that hanging over my head.”

Robb put a hand on Theon’s shoulder.

“All right. We’re in agreement,” Tyrion said. “Stark, I want you to know-”

“You had no idea. I know that,” Robb said. “I just…it’s been a long day.”

“Agreed,” Tyrion said. “But we’ll think of something. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Robb said before heading out, Theon on his heels.

“…I think we’re going to need a bit more wine than we were panning on using to celebrate, Tyrion,” Brienne said.

“Lucky you, I have plenty,” Tyrion said. “Let’s get drunk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the serious schedule slip which sadly means we won't be getting holidays anywhere near on time for a while, but grad school a new puppy and being sick will do that. This chapter was also a real pain since it's one of the least-funny ones.  
> Thankfully next time we get some fun and some subplot resolutions as, only two weeks before Christmas, someone needs a new coat  
> And. Sandor. Goes. Shopping.


End file.
